To Catch A Killer
by ForeverFrostwings
Summary: Miles Edgeworth is a complicated man, but all complications go out the window when a criminal needs to be caught. But what happpens when the pursuit of this particular criminal only serves to complicate matters more?  MINOR SPOILERS
1. PROLOGUE

A/n: Finally i am happy enough with the characterisation in one of my PW fanfics to start putting them up! Huzzah! Hopefully this will be enjoyable for people to read, i've personally read over it a great many times, so i'll flip out if someone actually finds spelling errors or typos in it, i will be very surprised. This story will eventually progress into some slash romance, so be pre-warned if you don't like that sort of thing. Otherwise, enjoy!  
I've added in this prologue after only submitting chapter 1 initially, because my friend who reads over these for me suggested I might do better writing a less abrupt introduction. So i did! Sorry for any confusion that I might have caused in doing this!

The view was splendid from the balcony of Edgeworth's seventh story hotel room. It was a very different skyline from his apartment back in Los Angeles, no sky-scrapers or smog, and no road noise. Instead he had the steep slopes of some European mountain and an otherwise endless sea of greenery accompanied by nothing but the sound of twittering birds. The Prosecutor spent a lot of time here in Europe, more so in recent years. Over the last two years he'd lived here longer then he had back in America. He was sitting on his balcony, lips sipping at the rim of his early morning tea as his eyes perused an American newspaper with almost lazy interest. He flicked over the stories about competition winners and environmental causes to get straight to the part that most would normally skip. There'd been another murder in his district, and it seemed the case was being handled by a new young hotshot whose name he'd been seeing a lot more recently, some Klavier Gavin. He was about to close the paper, not particularly interested in Winston Payne's latest screw up, when another name in a headline on the opposite page captured his attention. His tea-cup remained poised at his lips as his eyes quickly flashed across the article.

Phoenix Wright had won another case.

'_Does he ever lose anymore?'_ Miles thought, neither bitterly nor surprised. Phoenix Wright was somewhat of a prolific attorney, whenever he stepped into the courtroom regular court proceedings went out the window. He was not, however, a hard worker, and so his cases were actually few and far between.

'_That will be because of how thoroughly he investigates his clients before even accepting their contracts,'_ Miles thought, smirking slightly. Phoenix never did like defending people who were actually guilty.

Now Miles' tea-cup dropped to sit upon the table top, the newspaper quickly joining it. The Prosecutor's silver eyes turned almost wistfully out to the sprawling European landscape and he found himself almost wishing it was skyscrapers he was seeing instead.

'_It's been nearly a year since I went home last…'_ he mused absently, his thoughts only really half focused on the here and now. _'I wonder how much has changed? I wonder if Wright has—'_

"Blast it," he snapped aloud. The very reason he'd come to Europe was to try and rid himself of this thought process. It was always the same, always about that name and that spikey head always blocking his view across the court-room. Miles had never truly cared much for Europe, the people or their law, despite that being the ruse under which he travelled. European law was progressive yes, and he respected their willingness to accept new theories in judgment and law practice, but it made things hopelessly rabbit-holed. He used the time away to wrap his head around even more complicated conundrums that had dug themselves up over the years, dilemmas that had begun to confuse him endlessly. He was here so that he didn't have to face Wright in particular. He'd begun coming to terms with his relationship with the attorney, realising just how much that pain of a Defense Attorney meant to him. The problem was in his adequacy to maintain a place of friendship with Wright; it was far easier he found, to remain detached and corrosive. He wanted to correct these faults in his character before he faced him again, so that he might be as good a friend to Phoenix as he was to him.

'_Not just yet,'_ he told himself, picking his tea-cup up again to finish the contents before the chilly mountain air sent it stone cold. _'There's still a few things to work out first.'_


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I originally submitted this alone as Chapter 1, but i'm changing things around a little to add in a prologue. I apologise if that's confused anyone! Go back and read the prologue! ^^

Edgeworth was asleep in a dark hotel room somewhere freezing cold and caked with snow, when the phone rang. He groaned slightly as he stirred, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand as he sat up.

"Who would ring at this hour?" he growled, reaching over and picking up the phone.

'_It had better be a good reason for waking me up.'_

"Miles Edgeworth sp—" he began, but he was cut off by a frantic and nerve riddled voice on the other end of the phone.

"M-Mister Edgeworth?" the voice queried nervously, its pitch shaking uncontrollably, were those sirens he could hear in the background? "W-Would you be able to… to come back to California? P-Please?" the voice whined in a high pitched keen, it sounded as if the speaker was crying. Edgeworth knew that voice, and he was confused, though perhaps pleasantly surprised, as to why its owner was ringing him.

"What is it Miss Fey, is everything alright?" he asked patiently. Normally a caller at this hour of the morning would receive a much colder reception, but he knew the girl well enough to decide that she'd only call if it was absolutely vital… unlike her blue-suited companion, who called just to brag about his new ball-point pen.

"N-No, M-Mister Edgeworth…" the girl whimpered, apparently lapsing into hysterics on the other end of the phone.

Edgeworth rotated around to sit on the edge of his bed now, leaning forward, what had gotten the girl in such a state?

'_And why would she call _me _about her problems?'_

"Miss Fey-" he began, but he was cut off by another woman's voice, this one was emotional too, but _much_ stronger… and accented.

"Miles Edgeworth, stop asking foolish questions and get on a plane," there was no room for argument it seemed.

"Franziska?" Edgeworth replied, surprised to hear his little sister-figure on the other end of the line, last he'd heard she was back in Germany… and was refusing to take any of his calls. "What's happened?"

"Just do it Miles," she snapped, hanging up the phone.

Edgeworth sat in complete silence for a long moment. Now he KNEW something was not right, but he was no more clued in than he had been when he first answered the phone. Maya was in hysteric tears and Franziska was there, distressed enough to drop the usage of his full name for a brief moment in time, a habit very unlike her.

Edgeworth pulled himself out of bed, getting dressed and packing his bags as fast as he could manage, ringing a taxi as he worked.

'_It had better be good… dragging me back to America on such short notice is not a cheap affair.'_

The moment the car arrived and he'd hopped in he set about hunting down a private jet charter. At this time of night it was no small task, but after some influential string-pulling he soon found himself bound back for the city he'd avoided for so long, Los Angeles.

When he landed at the airport there were police cars waiting for him.

'_The matter is desperate enough for a police escort?'_ he thought to himself as he approached the man standing nearest to him, his broad back turned.

"Excuse me-" Edgeworth began, but he stopped as the policeman turned.

"Mr Edgeworth sir!" Gumshoe exclaimed, he too looked a little shaken, his skin pale.

'_What in heavens name could shake this incompetent so?' _Edgeworth thought, a mix of agitation and concern.

"Hop in sir, no time to explain," he hurried Edgeworth into the car and sped off at a speed barely legal for officers of the peace, his sirens blaring.

"Detective what is the meaning of all this?" Edgeworth demanded, serving the scruffy detective a dark icy glare in the rear-vision mirror. He wanted it to be crystal clear that he was _not_ being left short on information for any longer.

Gumshoe was quiet for a long moment, but after a heavy exhale of breath he finally replied, meeting eyes with Edgeworth in the mirror, they were dark with grief, "it's Phoenix Wright, sir."

"W-Wright!" Edgeworth exclaimed, trying to limit the amount of shock and concern that immediately leaked into his expression. He could feel the blood draining from his face as ice seeped in his veins. "What has happened?"

"Someone broke into the Wright and Co offices and attacked him pal, that's what," Gumshoe replied, his voice harbouring some intense malice.

"Have they apprehended the perpetrator?" Edgeworth demanded, trying to sound as calm as he could.

"No sir," Gumshoe replied, shaking his head, his expression was grimmer than Miles had ever seen before. "That's where you come in. We don't have much solid evidence pointing to anyone and without Mr. Wright to testify we wouldn't have a full case anyway…"

Edgeworth didn't think it was possible to feel any more ill than he already did, but as Gumshoe spoke he felt like the pit of his stomach was falling out, "W-Wright is-?" he began, failing to mask the stammer as he sank back into the seat. He was unable to finish his question as the police car came to a screeching halt.

They were pulled up outside Wright's offices, the entire area was taped off with police tape and there were flashing red and blue lights everywhere. The street in front of the office, outside the confines of the tape, was lined with neighbours who'd come to see what the commotion was all about.

'_Humans can be nothing but vultures…' _Edgeworth thought bitterly, pleased to see that these 'spectators' were only still present because police officers were speaking with each, obviously making sure that no one had witnessed anything that might be of use in catching the perpetrator.

"Miles Edgeworth!" a voice called as Edgeworth climbed from the car, Franziska was beckoning him over. She stood in the doorway of the offices, a scowl set into her face.

It didn't take more than a glance to tell Edgeworth that the door had been forced open with a crow-bar or something to that effect, the wood near the latch was broken and the door swung loosely on a broken hinge.

'_Whoever it was desperately wanted to get inside… and was not practiced in the art of breaking and entering…'_ Miles observed, sniffing indignantly.

"Follow me," Franziska quipped blandly, moving into the offices.

The building was as poorly kept as he remembered it, empty fast-food containers could be found on nearly every flat surface, and there was a good layer of dust across anything that hadn't been moved recently. The only tidy thing to be seen in the main office was the shelves behind Wright's desk. His case-files were organised alphabetically for easy access, and every one was labelled with its case number.

'_A trick learned from his mentor Mia Fey no doubt'_ Edgeworth mused to himself.

Even the Attorney's desk was stacked high with unfiled paperwork, many large case files stuck with fluoro-orange post-its reading 'TO BE SORTED'.

Franziska lead him through the office into the back room. Edgeworth knew from prior experience that this room had long been the office of the late Mia Fey, the original owner of Wright's defence firm. For some time Phoenix had left the office exactly as she'd had it before her death, even going to the lengths to buy a new lamp identical to the one that had been destroyed during her murder. Recently however Phoenix and his law firm had fallen on hard times financially, and he'd had his house – if you could ever really call his grotesque, one bed-room apartment a house - re-possessed. After many phone-calls, the Prosecutor had advised his friend to use his meagre funds to pay the mortgage on the offices rather than the apartment. Because of this Phoenix had converted Mia's old office into a small living area.  
'_I'm sure this is illegal in some way or another,' _Miles observed absently.

There was a bed in the far corner near the window, surrounded by a curtain. There was also a lounge area with a TV, which was on and switched to a blank channel, suggesting that a movie had previously been being played on it.

The lounge was a beaten up blue suede thing that was of good quality some decade or two ago, and the blanket and pillow that sat at one end suggested it had a dual purpose.

It was this lounge area that Franziska urged Edgeworth's attention too, and for good reason. There was blood everywhere, splotched down the back of the decrepit couch, splattered all over the floor, and smeared in a hand print on the nearest wall, the trail of blood smeared downwards from the original hand print.

Edgeworth had seen violent crime scenes before, but he still felt his stomach begin to churn, it never really got any easier.

"What happened?" he asked stiffly. There was so much blood… it seemed Wright had dug his trouble too deep this time.

"According to the testimony of Miss Maya Fey…" Franziska began, her own face pale as her eyes surveyed the blood, "she and Phoenix Wright were watching a movie - a loud one she says - so they did not hear the front door being forced open from the outside." She gestured back in the direction of the door absently, "she said that the attacker snuck up on them from behind," Franziska continued to explain what Maya had witnessed, making it quite clear that the girl had not seen the actual event, but witnessed it instead primarily through noises and intermittent shadows cast by the light of the TV, from her hiding place between the couch and a wonky over-burdened coffee-table.

"When everything went quiet she crawled from her hiding place and found Phoenix Wright…" Franziska choked off into silence, pointing Edgeworth in the direction of the largest patch of blood, the one nearest the smeared handprint on the wall.

"These prints?" Edgeworth asked, leaning in to squint at the hand print on the wall, trying to keep his mind on business for now.

"The victims," Franziska replied, her voice nearly as restrained as Edgeworth's.

"What's the crime being defined as?" Edgeworth asked, skilfully dodging the REAL question on his tongue, the one he couldn't bring himself to ask.

'_Wright…'_

"Breaking and entering, and grievous bodily harm with intent to kill," Franziska replied. It was obvious from Edgeworth's alarm that he'd not expected her to say anything but 'murder'. It almost made her feel quite proud, to see her brother disarmed that way.

"So he's-?" Edgeworth began, but Franziska answered him before he got the chance to finish the question.

"Seven stab wounds to the chest and back," she said with an air of professionalism that only she could maintain when discussing such a vicious act. "He's in the ICU at present. He was conscious when Maya Fey called the precinct, but he'd fallen unconscious by the time emergency teams arrived."

Edgeworth swallowed thickly, trying to fight off the surge of anger, fear and grief that raged through his mind. "I will go see him myself," he said, his voice shifting out of its stiff official tone. When it came down to it, Phoenix Wright was still a close friend, even if in matters of law they stood on opposite sides.

"Scruffy will take you. I'm staying here to investigate further," Franziska replied, turning back to bark orders at the police who photographed the crime scene.

The drive to the hospital was silent, Gumshoe not making any attempts to engage in conversation, which Miles would normally have found quite pleasant. With his nerves pinging angrily the way they were, he almost wished Gumshoe would say something.

He climbed out of the car before it even came to a full stop outside the hospital, and tugged at his heavy travel jacket as he walked briskly up the stairs. He skirted around the perverted old man who liked to pretend he was the director and made straight for the nurse's desk.

"Wright. Phoenix Wright," he said quite rudely to the nurse at the desk. She huffed as she looked at him, shaking her bleach blonde head.

"Visiting hours have finished sir, and that particular patient is in ICU, so he's not seeing visitors."

Edgeworth served the woman a dark glare and was about to voice his objection - slamming his hand against her desk and opening his mouth – when Gumshoe came racing up behind him and flashed the woman his badge.  
"Police business," he said briskly, and despite her perturbed look the nurse soon directed them to the Intensive Care Unit where Wright was being cared for.

Edgeworth felt his mood hit rock bottom when he entered Phoenix's hospital room. The Defense Attorney was attached to all manner of beeping machinery and IV drips, the monotonous rhythm of beeping and whirring already giving the Prosecutor a furious headache. He made his way slowly towards his friend's bed, fighting to regulate his own breathing, grateful that Gumshoe had stayed outside to wait for him. He removed his travel coat, hanging it over the back of a nearby chair and came to hold the bars on the unconscious man's bed.

"Wright…" he breathed, eyes roaming the broken figure over, finding bandages wrapped around the man's chest, bulging in places where a stab wound must have been, large amounts of gauze being used to stop the bleeding. There was bruising all down one side of Phoenix's face and neck, and the man was ghostly pale.

"I distinctly remember telling you to take better care of yourself when I left, Wright," he snapped, not caring that Phoenix would not be able to hear him. "Last time I had to come and save your hide you'd fallen off a burning bridge, I half expected you to have had your fill of dangerous activities," his knuckles went white as he clutched at the bars, serving the sleeping attorney the darkest glare he could manage.

"Don't expect me to come running every time you get yourself in to trouble; I'm tired of helping you clean up your messes," the anger in his voice began to wane, as did the power of his glare. His icy grey eyes moved to fix themselves on Phoenix's hand that sat atop the sheets, needled with an IV. He'd just considered taking a hold of it when a voice from the door made him turn.

"Mr. Edgeworth?"

His eyes came to settle on a pale and sickly looking Maya Fey, her hair ruffled from its usual neatness and her clothes askew as she hugged a blanket around her shaking form.

"Miss Fey…" he acknowledged quickly, moving from Phoenix's bed side to fetch her a chair, but before he got there he found himself shocked into stunned silence as Maya threw herself at him, crying hysterically into his dark vest.

"He can't die Mr Edgeworth!" she wailed as she clung to his wine-coloured suit jacket. "What will Pearly and I do?"

Edgeworth fought away the surprise he felt when the young girl clung to him for reassurance, a service he was not really that good at offering. Swallowing thickly he glanced over his shoulder towards the many machines that monitored Phoenix's condition, checking them to reassure himself before replying to Maya. He lifted his arms somewhat stiffly, wrapping them around her in a warm – albeit awkward – embrace of sympathy.

"Wright has shown in precedent that he has the amazing ability to pull off turnabouts in the most unlikely of circumstances," he winced, realising that may not have been the most reassuring thing to say after all, "so I am certain he will make a full recovery Miss Fey."

"Maya," she corrected him softly, looking up as she sniffed back her tears. "Why do you always call your friends by their last names?"

Edgeworth was rather taken aback by the girl's question. He'd had people criticize him often enough for his insistent use of last names, but he'd never had someone question _why_… and hearing the word 'friend' come out of Maya's mouth seemed pleasantly alien.

"I've never really considered that you might wish for me to call you something else, Miss uh…" he faltered, completely thrown off, "Miss Maya."

"See, that's much friendlier Mr. Edgeworth," Maya said with a quivering smile.

Despite their circumstances, Edgeworth couldn't stop himself from chuckling at the irony in her statement, "and yet you still used _my_ last name."

The young woman's eyes widened a little, a hand rising to cover her mouth. It seemed she'd not even realised her blunder, "I don't think I even _know_ your first name, Mr. Edgeworth."

"It's Miles, Miss Maya," the prosecutor offered, releasing her from his hold and taking a step back to straighten his suit. "You're welcome to use it, if you really wish to do so."

The girl's eyes brightened just a little, and a tiny smile graced her lips, "I think I like Mr. Edgeworth better anyway."

It made Miles smile too, glad that he had actually been able to cheer Maya up, even if only a little bit. "Do you trust me?" he asked, silver eyes now hardening again.

"Nick trusts you," Maya offered immediately, wiping at her eyes a little with the corner of her blanket. "If he believes in you, then I do too."

Edgeworth glanced towards Phoenix's bed now, only a little surprised to learn that his friend and rival trusted him so much. After all, Miles had made it quite clear that _he_ trusted Phoenix, so it was really only fair that the faith go both ways. He looked back to Maya now; she was watching him curiously, surveying his expression with her dark eyes.

"I'm going to catch this attacker, Maya," Miles said firmly, "and bring them to justice."

Maya stared at him firmly for a long moment, tilting her head slightly, "promise?"

"I give you my word," Miles responded, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing slightly.

"We trust you, Mr. Edgeworth," Maya said, moving over to Phoenix's bedside to take a hold of the Defence Attorney's hand, "we know you'll find them."


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2! YAY! I am actually on quite a roll with this fic, so you might get more then one chapter a week. However as i'm about to go back to uni, i MAY be overstating a little, we'll see. Also, a note about my reference to a LA suburb in the last paragraph, I HOPE IT'S RIGHT! I'm putting my trust in what i can read off of Wikipedia! XD

I just want to thank my dear friend who Betas this for me, THANKYOU! ^^

That night, Edgeworth had gone back to his apartment for the first time in over a year. It was dark at first, but even after he'd reached up to flick the light switch - bathing the long-abandoned rooms with a warm light – it remained cold and empty, the furniture draped with white sheeting to protect it from the dust. It seemed a bitter moment, to finally be back here without the accompaniment of any great personal epiphany or jovial homecoming. Instead he was back here and thrown straight into the thick of one of the biggest cases of his recent career, and not just some impersonal murder trial that he could wrap up with a few choice words and well presented evidence. No, this was a case with no suspect and a victim whose safety was far more personal to him then just being a subject of his over-developed sense of justice. He was no longer sure of what he considered a 'good' homecoming. He groaned as he threw his travel-jacket over the hat-stand by the door and swaggered in to pull the protective sheet off of his expensive leather couch. He'd forgotten how extravagantly he lived when he was here in LA, it almost felt like an alien life-style to him now, after the elegant simplicity of his alpine resorts.

After aimlessly flicking channels on the flat-screen for several minutes the prosecutor relented,_ 'I'd best just settle down for the night.'_ He hit one final button on his remote before he stood from the couch and headed down the hallway to his bedroom, _'I have a lot of work to do tomorrow…'_

He tried for several long minutes to settle into the peace of sleep, but the bed was too soft, and the sheets too cold. No matter how hard he tried, Miles could not get to sleep. Instead he lay awake, staring at the ornate trim around the cornices of his otherwise blank ceiling, finding even that intricacy particularly agitating after long months of a regular white roof. He found himself wishing he at least had a book to read.

In the end the golden glow of sunrise bloomed on the distant horizon, largely obscured by the ominous silhouettes of skyscrapers. Their return agitated him nearly as much as their absence had only a short time ago as he'd sat staring at rolling blue mountains.

'_Make up your mind,'_ he grumbled to himself, covering his eyes with his arm in one final attempt to get a little sleep. _'Do I even _know_ what I want?'_

In the end he gave up on ever getting any sleep and got up and got dressed instead, preparing to launch straight in to the extensive day's work he had ahead.

'_I suppose the best first step would be to talk to the precinct and find out what they've discovered at the crime scene…' _he thought as he slowly straightened the golden cufflinks on his shirt._ 'And then have a word with anyone who has had contact with Wright in recent days. Maya and Pearl would be a great place to start…'_

Once he was dressed and the time was of a civil hour, he fetched his keys from their place on his bedside table and headed down into the car-park where his bright red sports car was parked in the far corner underneath a tarp. It felt strange to drive again, seeing as his travelling in Europe had been somewhat limited to taxis and otherwise chauffer driven modes of transport. He quickly re-adjusted, regaining the rhythm of his car's somewhat touchy gear-changes and ceasing to grind the engine viciously each time he tried to shift.

'_Christ,'_ he snarled, as he turned a corner to discover that the early-morning Los Angeles rush was in full-force, stretching out for several blocks between him and the Wright and Co. Law Offices. _'I can't believe I drove to work every morning through this.'_ He paused a moment, considering something, _'I can't believe Wright rides a push-bike through this when he can't afford a bus fare…'_

It took him the better part of an hour to finally turn out of the thick of the traffic and onto Wright's street. The office was still completely taped off with the bright black and yellow 'DO NOT ENTER' and there were police cars parked along the entire block. The offices were a hive of activity.

Gumshoe came out to greet him as he pulled up outside the block; his expression not really any brighter then it had been the night before.

"'Morning Mr. Edgeworth, sir," he greeted exhaustedly. "We've a few new things we can share with you, but this is gonna be a tough one to crack, pal."

"But crack it we will," Edgeworth replied immediately as they ascended the short flight of stairs up to the broken office doors. "I won't rest until this felon is behind bars."

"We know that sir," Gumshoe replied, rubbing the back of his head as they side-stepped roped off sections of floor that were littered with evidence for testing. "I just wish we had more we could offer you."

The forensics were in the offices, going through the crime-scene with a fine-tooth comb, lifting prints wherever they could.

"Any suspicious prints?" Miles asked stiffly as he came to stand beside the investigator.

"No sir, the only prints we've found belong to the victim, Maya Fey and Mr. Wright's new secretary Mrs. Kyu," he replied, still brushing down the coffee table and its contents with aluminium powder. "Our attacker was quite thorough, we suspect they wore gloves."

Miles' eyes paused in their inspection of the crime scene when he heard the forensic scientist mention a name he'd never heard before, "Kyu, did you say?"

The investigator nodded. "Apparently Mr. Wright recently hired a new secretary, a Mrs. Barbara Kyu."

'_That seems odd,'_ Miles mused to himself, arms folded across his chest as he frowned pensively. "I was under the impression that Miss Maya Fey was Wright's secretary."

"You'll have to talk to either Mr. Wright or Miss Fey about that one sir," the investigator replied, relinquishing the conversation to turn back to his work. "I just know that the extra set of prints belong to a woman whose file has been recently updated to state these offices are her employer."

Considerably intrigued by this new development, Miles made a note in his organiser to ask Maya about this 'Barbara Kyu'.

"How much do we know about the crime itself?" Miles asked without looking up from his organiser, assuming that Gumshoe would still be close by.

"We've managed to work out a few details thanks to the layout of the scene, pal," the detective replied, gesturing for Edgeworth to follow him over to the blood-stained couch. "Mr. Wright was struck from behind as he sat here watching the TV," he gestured to the side of the couch that was splattered with the most blood. "From there we assume he directed Maya to hide down by the coffee table as she describes in her testimony. We can also assume that there was a fight between the victim and their assailant."

"Because of the stab wounds to both the chest and back?" Miles clarified as he circled the couch, checking every inch of it as he stroked his chin, just making sure that they hadn't missed anything that might prove vital. He was quite impressed with how competent Gumshoe was able to sound when regurgitating information he'd been told by others.

"Right, pal. That and the blood is quite wide-spread, suggesting quite a bit of motion during the attack."

Miles knelt down on the floor nearest to the worst of the blood-stains, making a mental note of the significant stains and the overall layout of the scene. "Have tests been run on these stains?"

"Not yet, sir. We expect them to belong to Mr. Wright though, pal," Gumshoe offered, seeming a little surprised that his own conclusion wasn't one Edgeworth had immediately come to.

"If Wright fought back there might be some of his attacker's blood here as well. I want it all thoroughly tested." The prosecutor struggled not to choke on his associate's name, still coming to terms with the fact that Phoenix was the victim in this case, rather then the attorney who was going to stand on the other end of the courtroom and wave his obnoxious finger around like some sort of conductor's baton. He straightened now, tugging at the front of his vest to tidy it. "I'll be back later this afternoon, I want those results then. In the meantime, I'm going to speak with Miss Fey and see if I can't track down Wright's new secretary."

Gumshoe acknowledged, wishing Edgeworth luck with his investigation. As the prosecutor was heading out the front door he bumped into someone he hadn't been expecting, "Franziska? What are you-"

"I am just as entitled to this investigation as you are, Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska declared indignantly, serving him a dark glare as she pushed past him to the doorway. "Imagine that fool's face when he realises that I was the one who caught his attacker!"

Edgeworth rolled his eyes irritably and turned his back on the woman, continuing down the stairs towards his car. _'Trust Franziska to use now of all times to restart her feud with Wright.'_ He climbed into his car and pulled out into the street, glancing back in his rear-view mirror at the building as it disappeared behind him. _'Still, she could prove useful and I wonder if revenge is truly her only reason for offering her assistance..._'

Maya was out in the hospital lobby when Miles arrived. She was standing over by the vending machines, drumming her fists against the glass in an attempt to get it to spit out her packet of chips, which had got caught during their fall into the chute. Edgeworth approached unheard and gave the machine a gentle nudge with the tip of his foot. The caught packet of chips was knocked loose and finally fell into the chute where Maya was able to pull it out.

"Thankyou!" she exclaimed, fetching the packet out and turning to face her saviour. She seemed quite surprised to see who it was. "Oh, Mr. Edgeworth! Are you here to see Nick?"

Edgeworth hesitated a moment before shaking his head. "No, I was actually hoping you could answer a few questions about Wright's recent behaviours?"

Maya was initially inspired by Edgeworth's devotion to the case, but she seemed to quickly grow a little uneasy about his question, focusing her attention on opening her crisp packet as slowly as possible. "We haven't really spoken a lot lately."

Miles eyebrows knitted together a little as he placed a hand on Maya's shoulders and urged her to join him in the waiting room nearby. "That itself might be useful, Maya. Why exactly do you say that you and Wright haven't been speaking lately?"

Maya's cheeks puffed out a little in a weird imitation of a puffer fish that he often saw her do to Phoenix when she was agitated. "Nick has been avoiding me lately I'm sure of it. My duties in Kurain have been keeping me quite busy, but whenever I do come down to see him he seems so busy, always with some excuse as to why he can't come out for burgers or something."

Miles frowned slightly, glancing at his Rolex watch to check the date. "When would you say was Wright's last case?" he asked absently.

"Oh a couple of months ago now, he's such a slacker. I have to practically _beg_ him to take cases," Maya replied, waving her hand in a dismissive fashion as she used the other to shove a handful of crisps into her mouth.

'_Does she realise how big a contradiction she just offered me…?'_ Miles mused, almost awed that the long-time assistant of the great Phoenix Wright would actually make such a seemingly careless mistake. "If Wright hasn't been taking any cases, why is he so busy?" he asked, folding his arms and tapping a finger rhythmically on his forearm.

Maya blinked once or twice, seeming nearly as confused as he was. "Well… now that you mention it, I have no idea!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "All I know is that he's always rushing around doing something. Barbie was saying the other day that he was working her into the gra-"

Miles cut Maya off then, confused, "Barbie?"

"Oh sorry, Barbara, Nick's new secretary. Apparently he's been working her into the grave lately," Maya clarified casually before launching into a particularly animated recount of some irrelevant tale.

'_I'm beginning to think I need to talk to this 'Barbara'.'_

"Do you know where I might find Mrs. Kyu?" he interrupted, producing his organiser to write down whatever address Maya gave him.

"Oh sure!" she exclaimed mid-story, reaching over to take the organiser and pen from Edgeworth before he could protest. The prosecutor was then forced to watch as she wrote the address in what seemed to be the largest letters possible, adorning several letters with flowers and love-hearts. "Here you go!"

"Uh… thankyou," he replied, taking the organiser back and putting it back in his jacket pocket. "If you think of anything important to tell me, be sure to give me a call," he said as he stood, producing a business card from her breast pocket to offer to Maya.

The girl grinned stupidly as she took the card, squinting at the elegant writing it was printed with. "I have your cell number now Mr. Edgeworth! Be afraid!" She leaped to her feet and bid him farewell, hurrying off to return to Phoenix's hospital room.

'_Well, at least she seems to have cheered back up,'_ Miles thought exhaustedly as he watched her go. _'I wouldn't want to be Wright when he wakes up.'_

The address Maya had given him was a rather noteworthy district called Venice, known for its quaint houses and canals. It was about a fifteen minute drive from the Wright and Co. Law Offices, so he set off immediately. Miles hoped that this secretary would be able to provide him with a lead, though he was sceptical; he strongly disliked wandering around with no clear direction.

'_It just seems so strange for Wright to have excluded Maya…unless he was up to something he didn't want her involved in…'_ he groaned with aggravation, fumbling the shift between gears as he turned a corner, his car snarling in protest. _'This would be so much easier if I could just ask Wright himself.'_


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: And here is chapter 3! A bit of a slow chapter this one, but interesting stuff will start happening soon! I just want to extend another thankyou to my friend who betas this for me. I also want to thank everyone who reads! Especially Levy120, whose review was very motivating! Thankyou!

Barbara Kyu's house was in East Venice, an area consisting primarily of small houses and apartment buildings. She had a nice house on the canal, the entire building and accompanying garden was distinctly oriental, complete with a mini pagoda-like gazebo. Edgeworth pulled up at the curb and climbed out, heading up the cobblestone pathway to her doorway with its dog-head door-knocker. He knocked loudly and then folded his arms, waiting for someone to answer.

'_Time to see what Mrs Kyu knows about this.'_

Admittedly, Miles was suspicious; after all it seemed awfully coincidental that an attack should happen on Phoenix after he'd recently employed a new secretary. The prosecutor made a careful mental note not to be to judgmental without evidence, remembering all too well the hot water it had landed him in so many times before. Cases involving Wright were _never_ black and white.

He heard her voice well before she answered the door; she seemed to be baby-talking to someone, gushing about how great it would be to have visitors. When she finally opened the door she seemed a little surprised.

"Hello, how might I help you?"

She was an Asian woman, not that many generations back either, and was very beautiful. She was wearing a very smart red dress embroidered with golden swirls and thick red-framed glasses. A German shepherd stood beside her, watching him intently.

"Pardon me showing up unannounced Mrs. Kyu, but I have some questions regarding your employer Mr. Wright," he kept his voice as polite as possible, offering a slight bow to her as he explained his purpose.

Barbara blinked several times and tilted her head slightly before offering him a warm smile. "Audy and I never mind having guests," she offered, scruffing the dogs head reassuringly before stepping out of the way. "I am a little confused though, I was expecting Mr. Wright himself to come calling today, he's usually always on time."

'_Seems she does not watch the news regularly…'_ Miles mused as he thanked her and moved inside. "I suppose it is safe to assume then Mrs. Kyu that you are unaware of what transpired at the Wright and Co. law offices last night?"

Barbara pressed a hand to her mouth, looking shocked. "What happened?" she asked. "I was beginning to wonder if something had held him up."

Edgeworth took a seat as she offered it to him, waiting for her to lower herself into the ridiculously floral armchair opposite him. Her apparent obliviousness was either a well practiced act or circumstantial proof that she wasn't involved with the attack, not enough to please Edgeworth of course. "Mr. Wright was attacked by an unknown assailant last night. He is currently in Intensive Care at the Hotti Clinic," he explained, not caring for any comforting tone that he maybe should have adopted.

"Oh no, poor Mr. Wright!" she exclaimed, looking genuinely stricken. "I told him he was going to walk into trouble, but he wouldn't listen to me!"

Edgeworth leaned forward in his chair, intrigued by this comment. "I am the prosecutor in charge of the investigation into the attack, and I was hoping you might help me better understand Wright's recent activities. I am ever hopeful he's been working on something that might help me catch the felon who did this to him." He laced his fingers together just beneath his chin, fixing her with his notoriously discomfiting gaze.

Barbara seemed hesitant, almost unwilling to trust Edgeworth. "How do I know I can trust you? Mr. Wright was a very private man you know, I'm lucky to be privy to his activities!" She seemed quite avid about defending her employer's private life.

'_An admirable, though unnecessary service. I can't honestly believe that Wright is a 'private man' in any sense of the word,' _Miles thought with mild amusement as he geared up his response. "Wright and I have been associates for some time, and we have often worked quite closely on cases together. My name is Miles Edgeworth." He produced a business card and offered it to her, as if to support his claim with evidence.

She eyed up the card suspiciously for a moment before offering him an almost teasing smile. "So _you're_ the famous Edgeworth. Mr. Wright always spoke quite highly of you," she winked, a gesture that made Edgeworth feel as though he might actually be missing something about her comment. "He was always saying how much easier it would be if you were around."

"I want you to tell me what Wright has been doing recently. Maya Fey told me that he's been avoiding her lately, and that he has been very busy despite not working a case," Edgeworth explained steadily, not breaking the eye contact once.

"Please, call me Barbie," she replied, resting her chin on her hand, the long red nails curling up to tap thoughtfully at her lip. "Mr. Wright was very secretive. I know he was working on an unofficial case of sorts. Not the kind he should really have been working either, he was always asking me to talk the local precinct into letting him see certain files, though he never told me what they were about or what they were for."

Edgeworth tried not to scowl as she spoke, _'I suppose I now know the _real_ reason why Wright hired a new secretary, leverage.' _He made a mental note to berate the District chief for unprofessional behaviour. "So you know absolutely nothing about what Mr. Wright was doing, then?"

Barbie paused for a long moment, her expression locked in deep recollection. "Well… there was that phone-call a few nights ago…"

Edgeworth jumped on the bait quickly, urgently wanting to know what it was she knew. "A phone-call from Wright?"

"Yes," Barbie replied, nodding casually, "he told me not to come in to work for a few days, but he didn't say why."

Miles exhaled with disappointment; he knew a dead-end lead when he heard one. _'Though perhaps this means he was expecting hostile company…?'_

Barbie shook her head now, an apologetic expression on her face. "I'm sorry I can't offer you more, Mr. Wright only employed me to bring him coffee and manage the phones. He kept track of his own schedule." She flicked at her lip with a fingernail, dark eyes peering off pensively at an undefinable spot in the distance. "Now that you mention it, I don't think I've ever seen a man keep such a meticulous personal organiser."

Miles seemed surprised at this, as he was certain that this was a new habit of Wright's. Previous experience had taught him that organisational skills were not one of Wright's finer points. "Wright kept an organiser you say?"

"Yes," Barbie replied immediately, straightening a little and twirling a lock of her long dark hair with a finger, "he wrote down every meeting, phone-call and important date quite fastidiously."

Edgeworth tapped his forehead with a forefinger as he pondered this new information, _'Wright's organiser might provide some clues about what he's been doing lately." _He looked up again and dropped his hand back into its folded position with the other, "Where might I be able to find this organiser?"

The secretary seemed a little hesitant, one of her hands rising to clutch her throat gently. "I don't know Mr. Edgeworth. Mr. Wright trusted you a lot, but I don't know whether he would appreciate me letting you go through his personal things…"

"Barbie," Edgeworth said, leaning forward, using her first name as she'd requested earlier, "I am trying to bring Wright's attacker to justice, but to do that I need to understand what sort of things he's been doing lately. This will help me uncover what sort of people he's been rubbing shoulders with, because it's obvious that this was no regular home invasion." He decided to turn up the charm, letting a captivating smile leak onto his face, his voice softening until it oozed so thick with sweetness he felt almost sickened to have to stoop so low. "I need your help, without your assistance I doubt I can catch this criminal."

It did the trick; Barbie blushed hotly and recoiled in a shy manner, stroking a lock of her long black hair anxiously between two fingertips. "Well when you say it like that, how can a lady refuse?" she giggled, shifting restlessly in her armchair. "Mr. Wright keeps all important files and personal effects locked in the top drawer of his desk. He keeps the key under the lamp on his bedside table." She fluttered her eyelashes as she began to gnaw on the tip of a fingernail.

'_It's been a while, but I've still got it,'_ Edgeworth thought rather arrogantly as he sat back, content with that particular part of his investigation. "I have one last question, Mrs. Kyu," he offered, angling his head downwards and peering up at her in a slightly intimidating fashion. "Where were you last night between 9pm and midnight?"

"I was at dinner with a friend of mine at about nine…" she began, folding her arms and rocking them from side to side as she thought back. "I got home at about ten-thirty and had a bath…" Her voice dropped instantly into something far less friendly, her expression following suit, "and then I spent a good hour on the phone to my good-for-nothing husband working out the divorce."

'_Seems solid enough,'_ Miles thought, scratching his chin. _'I'll have Gumshoe look into this husband and see if he can confirm her claim.'_

"Thankyou for all your help, Barbie," he mused charmingly as he stood, taking her hand and giving it a quick kiss to finish tying the knot that held her securely around his little finger, "you've been most helpful."

"Everything Mr. Wright used to say about you is true," Barbie replied as she withdrew her hand and escorted him to the door. "You _are_ very smooth." Her grin made Edgeworth realise she was more than aware of his manipulation, but didn't really seem to care so much.

"You're too kind," Miles accepted graciously, giving her a slight bow before he stepped out into the front yard. "Please keep yourself available for further questioning should I require your help again."

"You can question me any time you like, dear," she quipped, giving him a flirtatious wink before pulling the door closed.

Relieved to finally be in private Edgeworth shuddered, subconsciously brushing the shoulder of his suit-jacket as if trying to be rid of what he'd just done.

'_I can't believe I'd stoop so low for _Wright_ of all people…'_

There was a large ruckus at Wright and Co. when he returned, and the white van with its many aerials and satellite dishes told him immediately that the media was to blame. The story of Phoenix's attack was about to hit the big news all over California. They accosted him the moment he climbed out of his car, an immediate forest of flashing camera bulbs and microphones barring his path.

"Prosecutor Edgeworth, you've worked with Phoenix Wright many times over the years, do you have any idea who would stage such a vicious attack against the attorney?"

"Mr. Edgeworth is it true that Mr. Wright's attacker was not apprehended after the crime, and might still be at large? Do you fear for the safety of other attorneys?"

"Is it true that this attack was fatal for the famous turnabout lawyer?"

This last question shook Miles slightly. _'What if I haven't been given the latest news? What if Wright has-' _He shook his head, scolding himself silently for letting the foolish questions of journalists rattle him so easily. "According to my latest information, Phoenix Wright is currently in a stable state in hospital, he's expected to make a full recovery."

"And what of the criminal who attacked him?" another journalist asked, reaching desperately over the heads of her peers to get the microphone closer to him.

"A full-scale investigation is underway and you will be kept informed of any breakthroughs, now if you'll excuse me." He pushed his way through the crowd, inhaling gratefully as he was finally clear of the crowd and able to scramble into the crime scene past its flustered police guards.

"Vultures they are, eh pal?" Gumshoe asked as he joined Edgeworth in the entrance-way. "You should've seen Miss Von Karma give 'em what for," he chuckled in an amused way, obviously re-living the scene in his head, no doubt enjoying that it was someone else at whom her fury was directed.

"I can imagine, but the story will have to wait," Miles replied, holding up a hand to halt whatever the detective had planned on saying next.

Edgeworth moved into the back room of Wright's offices, snatching a pair of rubber gloves from one of the policemen working there. He put them on as he crossed the room towards the corner where Phoenix's bed was hidden by a curtain. He found the key beneath Phoenix's lamp, just as Barbie had described.

'_I don't want to know how she knew where it would be,' _he mused, taking the key in hand and heading back out into the main office. This area was more crowded then it had been that morning, the forensics were done with the actual crime scene, now they were just picking the whole area apart in their search for any decisive clues.

"We've already looked through all that pal," Gumshoe offered as Edgeworth moved over to Phoenix's desk. "All we learned was that he really needs to file his paper work more efficiently."

Miles smirked slightly, amused by the observation. "You're right about one thing Gumshoe, but I would vouch you have not investigated this top drawer?" He tapped the drawer in question with a knuckle.

"Uh, well… no sir, it was locked see…" the detective replied clumsily, rubbing the back of his head.

"I just so happen to have the key," Edgeworth replied, caring nothing for Gumshoe's immediate attempt to keep himself out of trouble. _'Time to see if we can find out what Wright has been hiding…'_

The key fit the lock perfectly, and opened the drawer with a soft click; it was shamefully easy for somewhere that was supposed to hold all of Phoenix's more important personal documents.

'_Someone ought to teach Wright about safe-locks.'_

The drawer was not terribly full, there was the organiser he was looking for, a wad of fifty dollar bills equalling about $300, a photograph and what appeared to be a case-file. Edgeworth took everything out, deciding that looking everything over would probably be beneficial.

'_Easy to assume that this money is simply here to hide from one young woman with expensive tastes…'_ he mused as he set the wad of money aside, picking up the next object. It was the case-file, and he quickly found the title labelled neatly on the spine, 'DL-6'. He felt his blood run cold. _'Why is _this_ file in here?'_ he thought, almost on the brink of agitation. He threw the case-file down on the opposite end of the desk. _'No, I don't really want to know why.'_

He moved on to the final object of interest, a photograph. There was a date written on the back, December 28th 2016. Frowning slightly Edgeworth turned the photo over; it was immediately familiar to him, a moment in time he'd all but forgotten, captured forever by a camera lens. Maya was there, holding a sign that read 'victory!' in large lettering, beside her was Phoenix and beside him… himself.

'_Ah of course, December 2016… this was after my trial,'_ Edgeworth remembered with a shudder, setting the photograph aside. _'Best not pry there either, I don't want to know how Wright's mind works.' _In the end he put everything besides the organiser back and re-locked the drawer.

"Find anything, pal?" Gumshoe asked, turning his attention away from a conversation he was having with one of the other investigators.

Miles waved the organiser at Gumshoe before opening it, flicking through the last few months quickly, silver eyes scanning the pages for anything that seemed out of place. Then, beginning about mid August, he found a strange reoccurring feature to Phoenix's weeks. There was no pattern to on what day it appeared, but at least once every week in August the same sequence of numbers appeared, '0113470'.

'_That's not a phone number…'_ Miles mused, quickly pulling out his own organiser to write the number down for reference, it felt important, _'or an address… a case number perhaps? Though it seems a little abnormal…'_

"Did you get those blood-results for me, Detective?" Edgeworth asked as he stood, tucking his organiser away in his jacket.

"Yes sir, all the victim's," Gumshoe replied, his face falling disappointedly.

"Blast," Miles muttered, thrusting Phoenix's organiser into Gumshoe's hands. "I want every test you can think of performed on this and run diagnostics on that number."

"Yes sir."

"Then call it a night Gumshoe, we have plenty of work to do tomorrow."

"Yes sir."

"And I want you to bring me the records for a Mrs. Barbara Kyu tomorrow as well."

Gumshoe looked about ready to cry as he scrambled to remember all of Edgeworth's instructions. "I'll make sure that's all done to your satisfaction, sir," he murmured.

"Thankyou Gumshoe, I'll see you tomorrow bright and early," Edgeworth concluded tugging his jacket tighter around his shoulders as he made to leave the offices.

"Goodnight Mr. Edgeworth."

"Goodnight Gumshoe," Miles farewelled, setting off home for what was likely to be another sleepless night.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry about the waiting! University decided to kick me to the floor and repeatedly hammer me until i was blubbering like a baby XD Now that it's under control i've managed to finish up this chapter. Sorry it's a bit short considering the wait, but the interactions in the chapter were quite important to me (i've never written such snarky dialogue before! *giggle*) and so i focused a lot of time on getting them right. Not a lot happens story wise in this chapter, but it ought to thicken the plot a little.  
In other news, i have a job now! Starting November 15 i'm working five days a week 8:30 till 5, so my writing time has been greatly limited, but i'll focus on getting a little bit done each night so you're not all waiting too long. Bully me with messages if you have to!  
Thanks again to my dear friend who edits this for me, and thanks to Levy for all your valuable observations and criticisms!  
Please enjoy!

The days trickled by slowly without much in the way of a breakthrough for Edgeworth. Gumshoe's efforts to identify the strange number in Phoenix's organiser had amounted to nothing, not even Phoenix's bank number. There were no prints, blood or other DNA related traces left with which Miles might have been able to trace the criminal either. Even the great Demon Prosecutor was reaching his wits end with this one, and the trail was beginning to go cold.

He sat at his desk, drumming his ballpoint pen impatiently, he'd just received a call from Gumshoe, Barbara Kyu's alibi for the latter half of the evening in question had been confirmed, she _had_ been on the phone with her soon-to-be-ex-husband apparently arguing over custody of the German Shepherd Audy. They hadn't been able to contact the friend with whom she'd gone to dinner however, the number always engaged whenever they tried to call.

'_Which means she is still a prime suspect,'_ Miles mused, swivelling his chair around to stare out the window at his multi-story city-scape view. _'But she lacks a motive…'_

Just then his phone rang yet again, the caller-ID reading simply 'Unknown Number'.

'_At least it won't be Gumshoe with more bad news…'_ he thought as he picked up the receiver. "Miles Edgeworth, District Attorney's office."

"Mr. Edgeworth!" a cheery voice chirped on the other end. Miles had to quickly move the receiver away from his ear to prevent himself from being deafened by their exuberance.

"Good morning, Maya," he greeted boredly, privately hoping she hadn't rung him to check up on the case. "What is it that I can do for you?"

"Nick woke up!" she declared triumphantly, her voice holding a merry tune of such a vibrant sort that Miles could practically envision her hopping up and down on the spot.

That being said, the Prosecutor felt something deep in his chest loosen, as if he'd just let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Splendid, is he well enough for me to come and ask a few questions?" he asked, already packing up his desk. He was intent on visiting Wright whether the Defence Attorney was up to answering his questions or not.

"He seems alright for now, though you might want to hurry!" Maya replied, her voice fading slightly as she presumably turned her head away from the receiver for a moment. "He's likely to nod off at any moment, the nurses said. You should see how much Morphine they're giving him!" She giggled madly, making Edgeworth wonder if she'd been tapping into her friend's drip herself.

"I'll be there as soon as I am able," Miles assured, closing his briefcase and hanging up the phone, regardless of the fact that Maya's voice could still be heard rattling off on the other end.

'_She can berate me for that later.'_

The roads were nice and clear, making it a straight shot to the Hotti Clinic that only took Edgeworth a matter of minutes. A particularly precocious nurse at the head desk was more than accommodating, even going so far as to escort him to Phoenix's room, a service he thanked her for, despite how ridiculous he thought it was.

Some of the monitors that had been present the last time Miles entered this hospital room had been removed, but Phoenix was still a mess of wires and tubes. The attorney's bed was angled up slightly near his head, but otherwise lay in the same flat position it had before. He appeared to be sleeping, his eyes closed and his face crossed with a look of discomfort.

'_Now is that because of the pain, or Maya's incessant rambling?'_ Miles thought as he cleared his throat, trying to urge the aforementioned Spirit Medium into silence.

The girl turned when she heard him, grinning broadly and gesturing madly with a hand to try and get him to move closer to Phoenix's bedside.

"You have a visitor, Nick!" she exclaimed, patting Phoenix's arm softly to rouse him from his nap.

One of the man's eyes opened the tiniest crack, a blue iris with its ridiculously enlarged pupil briefly looking straight at him before the eye closed once more. "What are you doing here, Edgeworth?" a tired voice groaned dryly.

Miles scoffed, rolling his eyes in a thoroughly impatient manner. "It is a pleasure to see you again too, Wright. It's been quite a while, I just thought I'd drop in to see how your seven stab wounds were going and have a leisurely chat," his voice bit deep with sarcasm, and he folded his arms to make his annoyance that much more obvious.

"Seven? I thought there were only six," Phoenix drawled blandly, making no effort to apologise for his rude greeting.

"You're mistaken I assure you, the knife was driven seven times, three to the back and four to the chest. You made a lovely mess of your… accommodations." He'd considered saying 'house', but the room in which Phoenix ate, slept and watched TV could hardly be considered a house.

Phoenix groaned tiredly, opening his eyes again to fix Edgeworth with the full force of his drug-blurred gaze. "I see you're still a prat, Edgeworth," he snipped in an almost weirdly fond way, a tired smirk crossing his lips.

Edgeworth retort was as swift as ever, "and you're still a layabout, though it seems your life has finally developed an element of excitement."

Phoenix laughed dryly, pausing for an extended moment to catch back up on the breath the gesture had cost him. "Really, why are you here?" he asked again.

Edgeworth sighed in surrender, too worn out to bother with his usual abrasive front. "Maya called me after you were attacked; I am investigating into the incident."

Phoenix's eyes were now wide and much more focused, the drug-induced haze that kept him only semi-coherent being pushed aside through sheer force of will. "I don't want you involved, Edgeworth. Everything is under control," he insisted.

"Clearly," the prosecutor quipped, unconvinced. "Nothing says 'controlled' like bloodstains and a hospital bill."

Phoenix did not offer a reply to that, choosing instead to lapse into a focused silence, his eyes locked intently on Miles in an almost accusing fashion.

"Look Wright, I need you to tell me what's going on. I have no leads, and if I don't make some progress soon your attacker is going to get away with it," Edgeworth finally relented, imploring Phoenix rather than ridiculing him.

Phoenix's reply was the most pessimistic set of words Miles had ever heard pass through his lips, "they're going to get away with it no matter what you do Edgeworth, that's the point."

"Wright," Miles said firmly, shooting Maya a warning glare, the girl promptly leaving the room without so much as a word of protest. "What is going on, what sort of trouble have you gotten yourself in to?"

"I don't want you, or Maya or _anyone_ involved, Miles," the supine man insisted stubbornly. "So just leave it be."

Miles snorted, agitated by Phoenix's sheer mule-headedness, it was just this kind of thinking that had got Phoenix in trouble in the past. "I don't care for what you were doing Wright, I just want this criminal behind bars for his crime." It was a lie, and Edgeworth knew it, he felt as though for the first time he was seeing this case in four dimensions, as if there was another very important layer to the situation, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"I'm not helping you," Phoenix grumbled groggily, sinking back into his pillow as if he were about to drift back into sleep.

"This is Obstruction of Justice, Wright," Miles snapped, a hand jerking out to grip the hospital bed's bars so tightly his knuckles turned as white as the painted steel.

Phoenix gawped weakly at him now, incredulous at how resolute Miles was being, even he – who had built his career out of arguing his point – felt inclined to back down and let the prosecutor have his way. "You wouldn't!"

One of Miles' silver eyebrows crept its way upwards, his expression remaining otherwise unchanged as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Of course you would," Phoenix muttered, deliberating silently for many long moments, obviously weighing up the consequences. In the end he shook his head, his expression sunken. "I can't Edgeworth, there's just too much at stake for me to risk others as well, especially you."

Miles frowned, having been so certain that he'd finally unlocked the seal on his old friend's lips. When he spoke again his voice was amazingly soft, so much so that he surprised himself. He found himself leaning over Phoenix's bed, silver eyes boring imploringly into Phoenix's tired blues. "Phoenix please… just let me help you."

Phoenix just shook his head and closed his eyes once more. "Just go, Miles. Please leave this case alone," the statement was clearly a final one, as Phoenix dropped into a drug induced slumber.

Maya was waiting outside Phoenix's room, and stepped in Miles' way before the Prosecutor could leave.

"Did he say anything?" she asked, her expression uncharacteristically crest-fallen.

Miles' reply failed to mask his irritation, "nothing." He scowled darkly at an indistinct spot on the far wall. "Has he still said nothing to you?" he asked.

"Just the same stuff he told you," the girl replied with a shrug. "That he didn't want me involved… and that he was sorry for putting me in harms way."

"He is possibly the most difficult person I've ever had to deal with," Miles groaned, massaging his temples as for the hundredth time that week he began to develop a headache. "Keep pressing him for me, and call if he says _anything_ that might be of use."

Maya nodded enthusiastically, a grin crossing her face as she clapped her hands together in front of her. "Sure thing Mr. Edgeworth, you can count on me!"

With that concluded the prosecutor excused himself and departed. He cursed Phoenix's name a million different ways between the hospital room and his car. He'd been hoping for at least one lead that might help him kick off his investigation, but Phoenix had been less help then Barbara, and that was a frustratingly small amount. This case had already gone far too long, and there was no way Miles was going to let it fall by the way of the label "Cold Case", not when he owed it to Phoenix to see it to its conclusion.

'_Selflessness is a virtue of course,'_ he grumbled to himself as he drove back towards the District Attorney's office, _'but there are times when self-preservation is better…' _he trailed off into silence, suddenly realising how much of a hypocrite he was being. _'Not wanting others hurt… that sounds awfully familiar…'_

His mind roamed back to the drawer in Wright's office, and the file he'd concealed there, filled with all its horrors. The title "DL-6" was one that would eternally be burned into Miles' mind, for more reasons then one. In his darkest hour, Phoenix, an old friend from a time in his life he'd tried his hardest to forget, had stepped up to defend him.

'_Even when I told him that I didn't want his help.'_

"I have to be missing something," he insisted out loud, pounding a hand against the steering wheel as he ran over all the case details in his head, mentally searching for some tiny thread that might lead him to the centre of the crime. "I don't need Wright's help or blessing… I will solve this case without it."


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: OK so I think a warning might be important for this chapter. I'll explain myself first, and justify why I think it's ok. I'm just worried some people might not like it so much.

I've created my own canon essentially here, but it will NOT interfere with any existing canon in any way. It shouldn't offend anyone either, because the subject in question was practically never touched on in-game, thus I'm pretty sure it's OK for me to make up some of my own details. I doubt it'll offend anyone, but I just thought i'd be fair and give you all a heads up. ^^

* * *

When Miles arrived back at the District Attorney's office his mood had deteriorated even further. A security guard took the full force of his anger when he mistakenly asked him how his day was. Apparently the young couple who'd had the indecency to crash their car at an intersection and bar his way had been spared it. He'd excused himself quite promptly and proceeded to his office where he was now standing in the hall reaching into his pockets for his keys. He was just about to try the lock when he noticed something very strange… the office door was standing slightly ajar.

'_I locked this before leaving…'_ he thought suspiciously, pausing for a moment with his hand on the doorknob before he pushed the door open in a rush, hoping that might startle whoever was inside. _'I really ought to look into some form of self defence… this seems to happen to me far too often.'_

The person inside the room was standing over by his case-file shelves, and they straightened suddenly as he entered.

Barbie gave a high pitched squeak, pressing a hand to her chest as she began to giggle nervously. She wore a blue dress today and Edgeworth observed with similar distaste to their previous meeting that it had a dangerously low neckline and very little in the way of a back.

"Forgive me, ma'am," he replied with one of his courteous bows. "I wasn't expecting company."

"I meant to wait outside," the woman admitted, her tongue stumbling as she blurted the words in a frantic hurry, "but when I saw the door was open I figured you couldn't have gone far."

"So the door was open when you arrived?" His eyebrow rose sceptically as he turned to glance briefly at the door. There were no signs of it having been forced.

"That's right," Barbie responded effortlessly, her eyes not meeting his face, but instead wandering aimlessly about the trimmings of his office.

'_Doubtful,'_ he grumbled mentally. "So is there anything I may help you with? I fear I am awfully busy at present…" he mused, moving to take his seat at his desk, gesturing for her to take the one opposite.

"Oh, I won't keep you I promise," she gushed as she draped herself in the armchair opposite Edgeworth's desk. "I brought you a few things that I thought might help with the investigation…"

She leaned down to reach into her frightfully gaudy blue handbag, producing a leaflet of papers which she then passed to Miles across the desk. "It's a list I put together of all the phone-calls Mr. Wright has been making, and all his appointments."

Miles perused the list of phone numbers, noting that there were several numbers that had names written beside them - names that reoccurred in the list of appointments Wright had attended - but many more that didn't. "Thankyou Miss, this will no doubt come in very handy."

"There's something else too… though I don't know what use it might be to you" she added, shuffling around in the bag again. "Mr. Wright's latest bank statement."

'_Never expected to get a chance to see Wright's sad financial state for myself…'_ he thought as he thanked the woman, giving the rather pathetic figures a lazy scan.

"Well, I'd better let you get back to work." She stood, smiling warmly to the prosecutor, who watched her with cold silver eyes until she was well and truly out of the door, still marvelling out how comfortable she seemed while wearing very little out in broad daylight.

He now devoted his full attention to the documents that Barbara had brought him. The first thing that became obvious to him was the sheer number of phone-calls that Phoenix was making – and receiving, not to mention all his meetings.

'_Not unusual for a normal lawyer…'_ he mused to himself as he began noting down all the numbers that Barbie hadn't been able to identify. _'This is Wright however… and I highly doubt his work ethic has improved that much.'_

He set the phone numbers aside and picked up the bank statement, picking his phone up in the other hand. He looked over the list of transactions as he waited for Gumshoe to answer his phone.

"_Gumshoe here,"_ the voice on the other side of the phone announced merrily.

"Gumshoe, it's Edgeworth, I need you to run a check on a few phone numbers for me…" He was curt as always, proceeding to read the numbers in question out to the detective, who presumably noted them down on the other end. He finished reading the numbers and was just about to thank his subordinate and hang up, when he stopped short, frowning at the bank statement. "Gumshoe… I don't suppose Wright spoke much of his financial dealings with you?"

"_Not particularly… though he did say once at lunch that he was doing OK without the apartment mortgage,"_ the detective sounded a little confused.

"Hmmm… alright Detective," Edgeworth surrendered, sounding as flat as he always did when a lead fell short with no information.

_"Don't worry sir!" _Gumshoe quipped enthusiastically, obviously picking up on his bosses negative vibes. _"You've been catching the uncatchable criminals for years!"_

Miles began his usual modest reply but stopped short quite suddenly, "what did you say detective?"

_"You've been catching the unca-"_

"Uncatchable..." the prosecutor reiterated, "that's what I thought you said." Miles began to tap his chin as he paced back and forth in front of the window.

"Wright mentioned something of the sort… he said that they 'were going to get away with it'."

There was complete silence on the other end of the phone, where Gumshoe probably sat with a bewildered expression on his face.

"I think Wright knew exactly what he was getting himself in to… I just have to try and get him to tell me what he's doing… or work it out myself."

Gumshoe cleared his throat loudly, _"guess I'll just get on with getting those numbers for you then?"_

"Ah yes," Miles replied, as if he'd only just remembered the detective was on the other end of the phone. "Thankyou Gumshoe, you may go."

Once he'd hung up on Gumshoe, Edgeworth returned his attentions to the bank statements that Barbara had provided him with. The defence attorney _did_ seem to be doing alright for himself, provided that his bank account not being _empty_, counted as 'alright'. The interesting thing was in the withdrawals, not the deposits. Wright's income was as sporadic as was to be expected from a private attorney, but he seemed to be making regular withdrawals, of $300 a month.  
"Why would Wright withdraw that sort of money each month…?" Miles pondered out loud, resting his forehead on his hand, eyes tracing the grain of his wooden desk. Then, just as his eyes came to rest on the edge of the desk nearest his drawers…

"Three hundred… that's what was in Wright's drawer…" He quickly flicked back through the bank statement, discovering that there'd been regular $300 withdrawals since August.

"That number first appeared in August too…" He reached into his jacket and pulled out his organiser, quickly checking over his facts. He was right of course; the unidentified sequence of numbers written in Phoenix's organiser had started around the same time as the withdrawals.

'_What are you up to Wright…?' _he mused, rising from his chair and turning to face his window, peering out across the sprawling view of Los Angeles.

He was jerked from his silent thought by the phone ringing. The sudden return to coherency had left him feeling slightly bewildered.

_'How long was I standing there?'_ he thought blearily as he massaged his temples and walked to the phone.

"High Prosecutor Edgeworth speaking," he droned as he pressed the receiver to his ear.

_"I got those numbers for you pal..."_ Gumshoe murmured, sounding somewhat bewildered.

"And?"

_"There's one that might be of interest to you."_

"Spit it out detective!" the prosecutor snapped impatiently.

_"Well, you're not gonna believe it pal, but that number that occurred about a dozen times? It belongs to a Karina Wright."_

Miles jaw dropped, and for the briefest of moments he simply wanted to babble in disbelief. "What did you say, Detective?"

_"Wright, sir. The other phone number belongs to a Wright."_


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: AAAAGRHHHGH... I am SORRY. I do still love you all, i promise 3

I got a job recently, and it's running me into the ground (though it's great to have money.) That leaves very little time for writing, and even when i do manage to scrounge up a spare hour or two my motivation for writing is at an all time low. I finally finished the next chapter for you though! It's not one of my best, in fact i'm ashamed that i've been quiet for so long and all i have to offer is this piece of crap. Consider this chapter experimentation... the feeble desperate scratching at the ice which is the shield surrounding our Dearest Miles Edgeworth's true personality. Not a lot happens, which is against everything i learned recently about how everything is supposed to progress plot... so after this chapter PLOT PROGRESSION AHOY.

Again i apologise for the shittiness, and extend the usual thankyous to the appropriate individuals who know who they are.

The next update will not take so long, i PROMISE.

* * *

It had been hard for Miles to follow Gumshoe as he explained the details, shocked into a completely stunned silence by the revelation.

"You're telling me that Phoenix Wright has a sister?" he asked with disbelief.

_"That's right Sir, and I can tell you one other interesting thing too..."_

"And what's that Detective?" Edgeworth asked impatiently.

_"That the payments for her phone-bill come out of Mr Wright's bank account, that's what."_

"So he's financing her... maybe that's what the money is for..." Miles mused out-loud, tapping his fingers in a rhythm on the desk. "Though that doesn't explain the strange numbers, or this attack."

_"Maybe the sister knows more?" _Gumshoe offered hesitantly, too used to Miles berating him whenever he tried to be smart.

"Perhaps, but we don't know where she is."

_"Phoenix mi-"_ the detective began, but Edgeworth cut him off abruptly.

"Wright would. He's been no help at all so far though."

The prosecutor massaged his forehead as he glared down at his notes, despising the illusive number that seemed to remain the centre-point of this investigation.

_"Surely if you work out enough alone he'll have to cave in?"_

"Not likely," the prosecutor scoffed. "Wright is as stubborn as a mule, if he decides on a course of action neither hell nor high water can sway him from it."

_"Maybe you're approaching it wrong,"_ the Detective mused absently. _"Ask him as a friend rather than the prosecutor on the case."_

There was silence on the prosecutor's end of the phone then, no witty sarcastic remark or scornful comment, just the usually inaudible buzz of the phone-line.

_"Mr. Edgeworth?"_

"That hardly seems like a professional approach Detective," Miles quipped emphatically, though there was an insecure edge to the statement.

_"I dunno pal, sometimes being a little different in your approach works quite well. Take me for example! Nothing professional about my work!"_ the Detective admitted that fact with a uncanny amount of pride.

"Not something I would admit so freely, Detective," the prosecutor scolded, scowling at the page of his organiser that was covered in an indescribable jumble of unconnected observations he'd been able to make about the case thus far. "So what you're suggesting is that I talk to Wright on a… personal level?"

He sounded rather unsure of himself.

_"That's right, pal! You sit down and talk to him as a friend. You two have known each other long enough, I'm sure he'd tell you everything if you gave him some time!"_

Miles sat in silence, contemplating the Detective's words. He wished he could share his confidence, but the very idea of sitting down to host a casual conversation with Phoenix made him shudder, though he wasn't entirely certain why.

"What exactly would I say?"

_"Conversation isn't something you can plan pal! You have to just say what comes natural!"_

_'Natural?' _Miles thought with disdain, his head hanging tiredly in his hands. _'There is nothing 'natural' about having a voluntary conversation with Phoenix Wright.'_

"Well thankyou, Detective," he concluded, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "I will consider talking to Wright again. Be sure to contact me if you find anything else out about this 'Karina Wright'."

_"Sure thing Mr. Edgeworth sir!"_ the detective declared before the monotonous beeping of the engaged signal was all that the prosecutor could hear.

Edgeworth now found himself suspended in one of those rare moments where he had no idea what to do. He sat at his desk, staring blankly across the empty expanse of floor in front of him towards the door.

_'This is when you get up and go back to talk to Wright again...'_ he mused to himself, feeling all of his muscles convulse in rejection of the idea. _'It's just Wright, it shouldn't be such an intimidating prospect.'_

He felt quite ashamed of himself as he began to pack up his desk, acutely aware that he had no intention to go to the hospital and see the defence attorney. Despite all his greatest efforts he'd reached his car and still not changed his mind.

_'I'm not going to talk to that pig-headed buffoon,'_ he declared arrogantly as he started the car. The sports-car's engine had well and truly growled to life and idled patiently for several minutes before the prosecutor realised he'd zoned out again. He looked down at his hands, which were curled tightly around the leather steering wheel, waiting expectantly for him to turn the wheel.

_'You _do_ consider Wright a friend...'_ a voice mused calmly in the back of his head as he rested his forehead on the steering-wheel. _'Is it really that hard to talk to him?'_

"Yes," he answered himself out loud, murmuring to his feet. "Talking to Wright is just about impossible."

He sat back in his seat and put the car into reverse, heading for his apartment.

"Not that it should be."

There was nothing but pitch darkness in his apartment when he got home, the shutters drawn over the large windows drowning out what little light there still was outside. He threw his keys down on the side-board and reached out for the light-switch, waiting for the blue-white light to fill the entire room. He then set his suit-case down and proceeded into the lounge, untying his cravat as he walked.

"Pess!" he called tiredly, glancing around the room for the dog. She looked up from the couch and yipped happily, jumping down and trotting over to greet her master.

He spent a minute or two stroking the soft fur between Pess' ears before he stood, brushed his suit clean of fur and headed straight for the kitchen to get himself a cup of tea. The kettle was agonizingly slow to boil, and as he stood staring at the little red light on the kettle's lid that signalled when it was ready he could hear the Grandfather clock in the lounge-room ticking monotonously. Every swing of the clock's pendulum was accompanied by a mechanical click that grated viciously on Miles' nerves, aching through his teeth and bouncing around in his skull like a deflating balloon. With a groan he leaned on the counter, grinding his teeth and massaging his temples in a circular motion, trying his hardest to shut out the almost deafening ticking.

"Aspirin," he concluded tiredly. "I need an Aspirin."

The medicines were stored in his bathroom cabinet, so he passed through his bedroom to get to the ensuite where the cabinet hung on the wall. Luckily the Aspirin was right at the front of the cabinet with his sleeping medication, the bottles being the two most frequently used. With a single shake he extracted two of the round orange pills from the bottle and curled them tightly in the palm of his hand - the tablets were quite small and easy to lose. As if to prove this point one of the capsules still managed to drop from his careful palm as he moved back through the bedroom. He cursed as the tiny tablet bounced across the carpet and disappeared beneath his bed.

For a moment he considered leaving it there and returning to the cupboard to get a new one, but it occurred to him that Pess might find the pill at some point and the last thing he wanted was to poison his dog. So the prosecutor knelt down by the bed, bending to peer into the darkness underneath it. He wasn't able to see much in the darkness, so instead he reached in with a hand, feeling around for the pill. His hand soon hit something much harder and larger than the tablet and though he briefly considered leaving whatever it was be, his natural curiosity got the better of him and he was soon drawing it out to find out what exactly it was he'd re-discovered.

It was a shoebox, a rather tattered old thing that had been repaired with duct-tape one time too many. It disgusted Edgeworth to think that something so repugnant and decrepit had been hiding underneath his bed all this time.

_'Dare I look at its contents?'_ he mused hesitantly, hands poised above the lid of the box. _'At least I can dispose of it should it be something irrelevant.'_

He removed the lid somewhat callously, destroying the tape that had so tediously held the brittle cardboard together. Sitting inside was an aging jumbled mess of photographs. Many were fading from mistreatment, or were folded and creased in ways that all but destroyed the image they showed. There was one photograph - the largest in fact - that was still in relatively good condition. It was a school class photo, still in its protective plastic casing.

Glancing briefly at the year Miles felt an age old knot contort in his stomach. _'I was sure I had disposed of these...'_

He recalled little of the faces, that smiled up at him with varying degrees of legitimacy. He found himself desperately scanning the rows, searching for a face that he could actually put a name to, all the while ignoring the squeal of the kettle as it finished boiling. He'd finished his perusal of three of the five lines of students without so much as blinking twice at a single face, finding nothing even remotely familiar about any of his class-mates. He was about ready to shove the useless memory back into its crumbling box and return it to the dark netherworld it had come from when a pair of eyes caught his attention. Their mischievous glint and ridiculously hooked eyebrows were unmistakable.

_'Of course you recognise Wright,'_ he scoffed, glaring at Phoenix's childish face, which grinned stupidly up from the photo's glossy surface. _'The fool hasn't changed a bit, he still has that stupid grin...'_

He found himself frowning though, his own explanations seeming somewhat inane. Sure, Phoenix was easily recognisable to him, with the iconic eyes and ridiculously spiky hair... but his deduction, that he recognised him simply because he _recognised_ him, was not at all logical. It was more like reasoning himself into an endless circle.

"I recognised him when he first walked into that blasted courtroom," he snapped to himself, angrily casting the photograph away. "It'd been fifteen years and I didn't even have to think about who it was that walked through those doors."

The realisation felt more like a ton of bricks than anything, which was rather stupid to the Prosecutor's rational mind.

"You recognised him because his was the face you worked hardest to remember," he berated himself, reluctant to accept his own realisation. With an angry jerk he jammed the photo box back together and pushed it back under the bed where it had come from. He then stormed out to the kitchen to finally silence the hysterically whistling kettle, muttering to himself all the while.

"If I really _must_ talk to Wright, he'd better not waste my time."


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: YAY much happier with this chapter, hopefully this will make up for my poor excuse for a previous chapter. I got laid off work until January, so I'm getting more time to write again.

Plot advances in this chapter! Huzzah! Hope you're all happy with it.

Also, OMG GO WATCH THE TRAILER FOR ACE ATTORNEY INVESTIGATIONS 2.

That is all.

* * *

Edgeworth had never really been a fan of speed limits, and spent much of his mornings complaining about how slow they were. Not today.

He rarely had the patience for traffic lights either, and became quite irritated if the light didn't change fast enough for his tastes. Today he sat quietly, not bothered by the long sequence of red.

He knew he was procrastinating, just as he'd known when he woke in the morning and decided that he felt like a slow-soaking leaf-based tea rather than his usual quicker-to-brew variety. There was one thing he knew he could never escape from though, and that was the reality that eventually he'd arrive at the hospital and have to walk up to Wright's room. His eyes had lingered for an unnecessarily long amount of time on a drive-through coffee stop when he finally decided enough was enough.

_'You're being ridiculous,'_ he scolded himself agitatedly, increasing his speed back up to the appropriate limit. _'You don't even like coffee.'_

By the time he finally reached the hospital, his usual brisk attitude had returned. He curtly told the nurse who it was he wished to see, and gave her an even briefer thanks before heading off in the appropriate direction. Wright had been moved out of the ICU and was now in a regular ward where he was being monitored as he recovered. From what the Prosecutor had heard, Phoenix was recovering with his usual unbelievable ease.

He wasn't so sure he agreed when he peered through the window of the door labelled "P. Wright". Phoenix looked like he was sleeping and he was still wired up to all manner of expensive medical machinery. Edgeworth crept through the door quietly, and pulled it shut behind him, wincing when the latch on the door made a loud clicking noise in the previously dead silence. Phoenix looked a little gaunt in the cheeks and was still awfully pale, and there were dark rings underneath his eyes.

_'Perhaps I'll let him sleep a little longer...'_

He glanced down at his watch to check the time, and decided that it was far too early for Phoenix to have eaten breakfast. So the Prosecutor went down to the hospital cafe and bought himself a cup of tea and a breakfast bagel for him before heading back up to the room. This time when he arrived the defence attorney was awake, a bustling nurse standing over him.

"Mr. Wright, this drip is here for a reason. If it runs dry again I want you to _call a nurse_. Not just sit here and bear with the pain."

As she straightened and turned towards the door, she noticed Miles standing there, and offered him an apologetic smile. "Sorry sir, he's all yours now."

Once the nurse had stepped out of the way, Miles' eyes met with Phoenix's, who was looking over at him with a perplexed expression on his tired face.

"Good Morning, Wright," he greeted, trying not to let it sound too forced. The lack of accompanying smile was probably what made Phoenix roll his eyes before he beckoned Miles to enter his room.

"For once I'm not so sure it _is_ a good morning," he replied, his voice croaky. He frowned as Edgeworth offered him a paper bag, reaching up with his drip-laden hand to take it. "What is it?"

"Ham and cheese," Edgeworth replied as he dragged a nearby chair over to sit himself down beside Phoenix's bed. "A half-decent breakfast at the very least."

"It will be better than porridge, that's for sure," Phoenix agreed as he began to unwrap the bagel. He opened his mouth and was about to take a bite when he paused and glanced at Miles, one eyebrow tilting into a suspicious position. "What's the catch?"

"Catch?" Edgeworth replied, trying to feign ignorance. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Since when did you visit without a hidden agenda, let alone bring me food."

Edgeworth felt slightly perturbed by Wright's scepticism, but a sensible voice in the back of his head reminded him that he wasn't usually the type for purely social visits.

"There is no catch Wright, I am simply paying you a harmless visit."

Phoenix's dark eyes remained locked on him for a long moment, assessing the legitimacy of what he had just said. He must have decided it was acceptable, as he dropped his eyes and took his first mouthful of bagel, chewing gratefully.

"How are you feeling?" Miles asked after quickly clearing his throat, deciding that sitting in silence and staring at Phoenix as he ate were inappropriate courses of action.

"Better now that the morphine is kicking in again," the other man replied around a mouthful of food. "Nurses seem happy with my progress."

Miles stared at his companion for a moment, unable to stop his eyes from dropping to fix on the other man's chest, where he knew beneath the hospital gown there were many deep wounds.

"I'm- well, that's good," he mused, stumbling over the wording in a strange moment of ineloquence. "I'm glad you're making an adequate recovery," he remedied.

"I didn't know you cared that much, to be honest," Phoenix murmured as he lowered his bagel to rest his hands in his lap atop the dull bleach bed-sheets.

Miles eyebrows furrowed together in a frown for a moment, before he fought to smooth the lines from his face. "I realise I'm a little difficult at times Wright, but I was under the impression we were... on amicable terms."

Phoenix blinked twice, before the corner of his mouth twitched into a slight smile. "You mean you thought we were friends?"

Heat rushed into Miles' face as he broke their tedious eye-contact to glare at the far wall. "Quite," he snapped.

"Well I appreciate it Edgeworth," Phoenix replied, folding up what was left of his bagel and setting it aside - he'd only eaten half. "Really."

Miles returned his gaze to the bed-ridden attorney, who was now staring distantly off towards the window, a strange sort of smile on his lips. He simply watched him for many long moments, finding the silence between them to be surprisingly comfortable. It was as if he needn't bother speaking, as if his mere presence in the room constituted everything that need be said.

"Is Maya angry with me?" Phoenix asked, breaking through the daydream that Miles had slipped into during their lengthy period of companionable calm. The question seemed a daft thing to ask to the prosecutor, but he quickly deduced that mocking cynicism was not the correct method for quelling his friend's doubts.

"Not at all. She is just worried about you, as are we all," he explained, busying himself with adjusting the cuff of his wine coloured suit jacket.

There was a period of awkward silence, and when Miles looked up to see why Phoenix had not replied, he discovered brown eyes upon him.

"We all?" he reiterated, as if the point needed elaboration.

"Don't act so surprised Wright," Miles quipped abruptly. "I would expect a backlog of sympathy mail on your desk from your previous clients when you return."

He rested his chin in his hand, cupping it with one sage-like finger.

Phoenix laughed huskily at that, the small fond smile twitching at his lips again. "I never knew people cared so much."

Miles' reply was perhaps too sudden or otherwise intoned so that the underlying message was not as well masked as he would have hoped. "People do not easily forget those who have done them a good turn. Showing they care occasionally helps to remind the other party as such."

Phoenix chuckled lightly, leaning back against his pillow with a tired sigh. "I guess what they say is true... that people don't really forget anything."

"Not entirely true," Miles objected passively, reaching into his jacket to produce something from one of the pockets. He unfolded the decrepit piece of paper and offered it to Phoenix, who took it from him with a curious look on his face.

"Who is this?" Miles asked, pointing to one of the faces in the photo. There were four people, Phoenix was kneeling in a sandbox, patting the walls of a castle he was building. Miles sat on the other side of the castle from Phoenix, putting a makeshift flag at the top of one of the complete towers. The third face was Larry, who'd come obnoxiously close to the camera and was half blurred by the lens's focus. The fourth face was a young girl, and she was playing with a caterpillar in the grass.

Phoenix looked surprised to see the photo, and turned it over to check the date scrawled on the back in elegant cursive handwriting. "I thought you'd gotten rid of all your old photos," he mused, smiling fondly at how innocent and happy they all looked.

"So did I," Miles answered, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms. "Seems however, that I did not. I found them all stashed away... under my bed of all places."

Phoenix laughed as he offered the photo back to Miles, who hurriedly stashed it back in his jacket pocket. "Isn't that where all things we want to forget go?"

Miles blushed slightly, but he wasn't blind to Phoenix's blatant misdirection of the conversation. "Who is the girl, Phoenix?"

Phoenix blinked a few times, seeming a little thrown by Miles' tone, not to mention his use of his first name. He took a while to answer, a pensive sort of look on his face, but in the end he mumbled, "that's Karina."

Miles felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the name.

_'Karina Wright...'_

"Why do I not recall her?" he asked.

"Well, you didn't know her long," Phoenix replied, his voice evasive. "She moved not long after you started at school."

Miles' patience didn't take long to exhaust, and by now he was already tired of Phoenix's attempts to dodge the conversation. "She was your sister, correct?" he demanded flatly.

The defence attorney went tense almost instantly, eyes flicking to the far corner of the room. "Yes, that's right. She left when my parents got divorced. She went with dad... and I stayed with mum."

"Do you have much contact with her?" the Prosecutor demanded, sensing he was on to something with this line of questioning - he'd completely forgotten that this was supposed to be a _social_ visit.

"N-No, none. We lost contact... when she moved."

_'Liar,'_ Miles mind hissed as he watched Phoenix swallow heavily. _'You never were a good liar.'_

"You're lying, Wright," he snapped, eyes narrowed into an accusatory glare. "You've been calling her, and you pay for her cell phone."

Phoenix looked like a deer trapped in headlights as he stared at Edgeworth, mouth hanging partly open. "H-how did you-"

"For God's sake, Wright," Edgeworth breathed, completely exasperated with his companion. "I'm investigating your attack. I have to know everything you were doing around the time, phone-calls especially."

"That's an invasion of privacy," Phoenix snapped, massaging his temples as he spoke through gritted teeth. "I thought I told you I didn't want you to investigate this case!"

"That never stopped you, Wright," Miles countered with an arrogant smirk, drumming his forefinger on his arm. "I don't recall needing your permission at any rate."

"This isn't a game, Edgeworth!" Phoenix yelled, wincing as he pushed himself to sit up straighter, a feeble effort to seem more imposing to the stubborn prosecutor. "You could get hurt... you could get _others_ hurt."

"A risk I face with every investigation," he dismissed effortlessly, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head. "You'll have to do more to convince me."

"I don't need your help!" Phoenix snapped, pounding a fist against his bed-sheets.

"That's what I told you!" Edgeworth refuted, rising from his chair as his temper flared. "That didn't stop you from investigating against my wishes!"

"And I didn't go to all that effort just to see you get lynched by some Crime Lord!"

Miles stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Phoenix as he recoiled, obviously realising his slip. "Just what have you done Wright? Who have you gotten involved with?"

"It's no one," Phoenix said hurriedly, his voice husky as the rage from before withdrew hastily into desperation. "Please Miles, just let it go."

"There's no getting out of this sort of trouble unless we catch them Phoenix, you should know that." His desire to solve this case felt even more desperate now, with the notion that there were professionals lurking over Phoenix's head making his mind work over-time through the clues once more. "If you help me catch them you'll be safe-"

"You can't catch them!" Phoenix yelled, sitting up even straighter in the bed. "You can't even _touch_ them! They probably already know you're sniffing around, they won't hesitate to permanently stop you!"

At that moment one of the monitors began to beep loudly, and Phoenix recoiled to clutch his chest, a look of pain on his face. Miles took a step forward, wanting to help his friend, but just as he did a nurse came rushing in.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir," she said firmly, pushing him towards the door.

"You can't stop me Wright," Miles called back as he turned and headed for the door. "I'm going to get to the truth of this matter, and no one is standing in my way!"

He hurried from the room, already fetching out his cell phone. When the person on the other end finally answered he wasted no time at all on pleasantries.

"Detective, I want Karina Wright in my office yesterday. I don't care how you do it, just get it done, or else don't even think about your next pay-check."

After hanging up his pulled his organiser out of his jacket and quickly made a large bold note at the bottom of a page.

"Criminal Underworld."


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: Hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Safe and Happy New Year! (Or whatever else it is you celebrate at this time of year!)

I've been away with family for a few weeks, so I apologise for the delay in the chapter, but I finished the next chapter while I was away as well, so that one wont be long before it's posted.

I also have a few other projects in the works now, that I hope will tickle some of your fancies. I tried very hard to devote 100% attention to this story, but my focus drifts if I force myself into something.

Happy Reading! ^^

* * *

Franziska was waiting outside Edgeworth's office when he arrived. She looked her usual amount of angry, arms folded across her chest and foot tapping impatiently on the polished hallway floor.

"What kind of Gentleman keeps a Lady waiting, Miles Edgeworth?" she snapped, getting to her feet as he reached the door and began fishing in his pockets for his door-key.

"A busy one," he snarled back, in no mood for her behaviour.

"My, aren't we crotchety today," she retorted, lifting her nose and sniffing haughtily. She seemed complete unabashed by his short temper.

"What do you want Franziska, I don't have time to entertain you right now." Miles ignored her as she followed him across his office to his desk, where he immediately fished his laptop out of the top drawer of his desk and began to wait impatiently for it to boot up.

"An update, Miles Edgeworth. I'm as much involved in this investigation as you are."

"Surely you could pester Gumshoe for that information?" Miles growled impatiently, tapping a rhythm on his desk with his index finger as the laptop scrolled leisurely through its boot up process.

"I tried," she exclaimed, rolling the plaited leather of her bull-whip between her fingers. "Scruffy was not at the precinct, and the Chief of Police told me he'd be out all day chasing a lead for you." The German woman promptly slammed her coiled whip down on Edgeworth's desk, a typically childish temper-tantrum that made Miles grind his teeth together in agitation.

"Everything I know thus-far is here." He threw his organiser across the desk at her, before turning his attention to his computer, which had finally finished booting up. He quickly began a search on the Police Database for any and all known criminals who had ties to any sort of criminal underworld organisation, ever hopeful that some scrap of information might connect some of the dots in this case.

Franziska was blissfully silent as she read through his notes, giving him long enough to work his way through about a dozen profiles before she spoke.

"What is this?" she asked, pointing to the strange number from before that he'd scrawled in his diary.

'0113470'

"I thought it was a case number, or a selection of digits in a phone number perhaps," Miles explained, turning his attention away from the computer for a moment as to see what his sister made of the strange digits.

"Phoenix Wright does not use a personalised number system to file his cases, he uses the name of the defendant," Franziska explained, moving away from the desk to pace in a tight circle around the office, her eyes fixed on the numbers. "This could not be a court case number... unless his mentor used a unique system? It could be a remnant from that..."

"Miss Fey taught Wright how to file, no doubt he uses the same system she did," Miles refuted, appreciating someone else's logic to solidify his own from.

"It does not work as an address, nor a date," she cited off, counting the options out on her fingers. "It could be a code. Have you questioned Phoenix Wright about the number?"

"I haven't," Miles replied, shaking his head. "Wright is being uncooperative, I don't advise badgering him any more than I already have, it may impede his recovery." His mind flicked back to the disaster his conversation with Wright had been that morning, absently wondering whether he'd been alright after he left.

Franziska grinned maliciously at Edgeworth, giving her fringe a confident flick. "You simply do not want me to get information from Phoenix Wright that you were not able to obtain yourself." She gave her whip a menacing crack for emphasis.

All she gained in reply from her companion was an icy grey glare.

"Relax Miles Edgeworth, I will heed your wishes and leave the fool be for the time being."

_'Fool indeed.'_

"The numbers are a useless lead at present then," she announced, tapping the paper with her knuckles. "This underworld development, what lead you to this conclusion?"

"Something Wright said," Miles answered, turning his attention back to the criminal profiles he'd been perusing previously.

"What's your current line of thinking?"

"It has to have something to do with Karina."

"Who?"

"Karina Wright," he repeated agitatedly.

"A sister?"

"Yes," he mused distractedly, nodding his head. "Wright was evasive when I asked about her, and her number was one he's been frequently calling recently."

"You're bringing her in for questioning then?"

"If I can find her."

Franziska raised an eyebrow, placing Miles's open organiser down on his desk. "A ghost?"

"Or she's running from something."

"You suspect she's involved in this mob business too?" Franziska questioned, leaning her weight on Edgeworth's desk.

"That would be the logical conclusion, though it seems strange they would target Wright and not her," Miles paused in his database search once more, looking towards Franziska, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Unless he served as a warning?"

"Possible..." Miles murmured, his attention abruptly diverted down to his organiser. It was open to the page with the strange number on it, but now that he was looking at it upside down, something seemed to be tugging at his attention. He frowned at it, pulling the book closer to get a better look. Franziska voiced another query, but Miles was far too focused to hear.

"Wright crosses his sevens..." he suddenly announced out loud, a look of realisation dawning on his face.  
"What are you talking abo-" she began, but she was cut off before she could finish.

"It's a name." His certainty was clear as he scooped up the journal and pocketed it. "I need to see Wright's planner."

"It should be down at the station," Franziska clarified, hurriedly turning to follow Miles as he swept out of his office - a man on a mission.

The evidence room was dark and cold when Miles opened the door, but a quick flick of a switch washed the metal cabinets with bright florescent light.

"You said you were looking for the evidence for what case?" the bored looking detective asked as he followed Franziska and Edgeworth into the room.

"N-M9," Miles replied, trying to ignore that fine coat of dust on everything that itched at his nerves.

"Oh right, that's one of Dick's cases," the man chattered, moving over into a dark corner of the room, one that looked so unused Miles was surprised it had not sprouted cobwebs. "The loose-headed numpty busted the locking mechanism in his evidence locker, so it's all stashed in one of the older units." He produced an oddly shaped key, which he inserted into the lock of the nearest cabinet. The drawer promptly slid open, revealing all of the neatly bagged and labeled evidence that they'd collected from Wright's offices, including his organiser.

Accepting a pair of rubber gloves that Franziska offered him, Miles fished the organiser out of the drawer and removed it from the bag, flicking hurriedly through the pages until he reached August, where the strange number had first appeared. Immediately he turned the book upside down, his suspicions were quickly confirmed. Smirking in a self-satisfied way he offered the organiser to Franziska.

"It's not numbers, but letters. It says 'Othello'"

"What does that mean?" she hissed, obviously not feeling as confident in this new fact as Miles was.

"It was written on specific days in Wright's personal planner, the logical assumption here would be that he was meeting with this 'Othello' on those days."

"Uh... Mr. Edgeworth sir..."

"What we don't know is who 'Othello' is or why Wright was meeting him."

"Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Without Wright to tell us this is going to be difficult to work out..."

"Prosecutor Edgeworth-"

His patience finally coming up short, the prosecutor turned to the policeman who'd been so desperately trying to get his attention. "What is it Detective?" he snapped.

"Othello sir, I know the guy."

"What, personally?" Franziska scoffed, unraveling her whip in preparation for the hiding she was going to give this bothersome detective should his interruption prove useless.

"No Ma'am. Othello is a Black Market Loan Shark, one of the best in fact." Now he had both of their attention completely. "We've been trying to catch him for years now, but he's got connections. We reckon he's got his hands in every stash of illegal cash in the country, we just can't pin any of it on him."

_'That explains why Wright said they were untouchable...' _Miles mused to himself, a troubled expression on his face. "I'm going to need all the precincts available files on Othello. I'm certain he's behind the attack on Phoenix Wright."

"Right away Mr. Edgeworth," the Detective acknowledged, though he hesitated a moment after turning to leave the room. "What would a respectful attorney like Mr. Wright be doing getting involved with an illegal loan shark, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Phoenix Wright was always foolish with money. No doubt the fool foolishly thought he could cover his debts with the money he borrowed," Franziska announced without hesitation, sticking her nose in the air again as she always did, an arrogant smirk on her face.

"On the contrary, Franziska," Miles disagreed, shaking his head as he returned the evidence to the drawer and pushed it shut. "Wright is not the type to borrow money. Just trust me when I say that no matter how tight his finances got, he would never borrow from anyone." The expression on his face suggested he had first hand experience with this matter.

The stern-faced woman seemed skeptical, but she did not voice any objections she may have had out loud. "So what now?"

"Obviously Karina Wright has a lot to do with this case. We find her and question her. Hopefully she'll be a bit more forthcoming than her brother."

"Hopefully she'll be less foolish too," Franziska grumbled as they headed out of the evidence room.  
"I think foolishness runs in the Wright family... so I wouldn't get your hopes too high," Miles quipped with a cruel smirk. _'Let's just hope she's as bad at lying.'_

The first thing Miles did when he returned to his office was ring a certain detective to check up on his progress with locating their latest lead.

_"No luck yet Mr. Edgeworth, sir," _he whined, sounding thoroughly disheartened. _"She covers her tracks well, she has to be getting some help from somewhere."_

_'Probably Wright...' _Miles groaned inwardly, massaging his forehead. "Just keep looking Detective, she's our best lead. Without her we're going to have to work out Othello's connection to this case alone."

At that moment, he was certain he heard a click, the kind that sounded like someone hanging up a phone. Frowning, he glanced up and looked around his office, but there was no one around.

"Was that you, Gumshoe?"

_"What's that, pal?"_

"Did you hear that noise, just now?"

_"Didn't hear a thing, sir."_

Miles frowned, he was certain he'd heard something... "Never mind then Detective. I'll let you get back to your investigation."

_"I'll call you as soon as I find her, pal!" _the Detective yelled enthusiastically before he hung up the line.

The next person Miles called was the hospital, but the moment he had confirmation that Wright had recovered from their little episode that morning he hung up, having no intention of attempting another conversation with the stubborn attorney.

_'He'll crack when he realises I have his sister to testify... then hopefully this case will simply be a matter of pinning Othello.'_

Duplicating all his notes about the case for Franziska was his next task. He was now convinced that her involvement in the case stemmed from legitimate interest rather than a pathetic lust to show either himself or Wright up in some way or another. He found that rewriting his notes was good in refreshing every little detail in his mind, a necessary practice for such a complicated case.

His intention was to head home for the day the moment that was done, but he slipped into a sort of daydream, remaining at his desk even after he'd finished all the notes.

_'Wright would never get involved with the mob... unless they'd done something that affects him in some way...' _he scratched his chin as he thought, ever hopeful that his analysis of Wright's character was correct. _'Surely he hasn't borrowed any dubious finances...?'_

He groaned loudly and hung his head in his hands, troubled by the developments this case seemed to be making. _'What have you done you fool?'_

He stood and began to pace around the office, eyes fixing on nothing in particular. _'What if you're in this too deep for me to fix?'_

That's when the shelves of case-files that ran along the entire right wall of his office caught his eye. It was an extensive collection, the shelves reaching the roof and running from window to door. There was even a library style sliding ladder fixed to the shelves to make it easier too access the higher shelves.

They were his cases... all the ones he'd solved, all the cases whose criminals he'd seen safely locked behind bars. Though his heart swelled with triumph at the sheer volume, he tried to avoid certain case numbers, individual files that he knew he been finalised with dubious methods and potentially innocent defendants. He found his eyes lingering longest on those case numbers he remembered losing, more recent additions to his wall. There was no sadness linked to those files like there once had been, instead these files intensified that triumphant feeling all the more. They were the cases that he and Wright had picked apart from opposite sides of the courtroom until they were both certain they had the right criminal in their grasp.

_'There's no such thing as insurmountable odds...'_ Miles thought as he scaled the ladder to one of the higher shelves, removing a file from its place. He braced himself against the ladder and opened the file, feeling a smug smile cross his lips when he saw the convicted felon's shot glaring up at him.

"Matt Engarde..." he growled out loud, skim reading the summary. _'He thought he had it all worked out, he thought he was untouchable...'_

He snapped the file shut and put it back on the shelf, climbing down from the ladder and moving back to his desk to pack it all away.

_'This is my case...'_ he growled, sweeping out of his office and into the hall, turning to lock the door behind him. _'No criminal is going to outsmart me.'_


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: I'm sorry everyone. I was over-eager with the previous chapter and posted it up before I gave it to my editor. So it was riddled with mistakes. I've fixed all the ones I found, and I have dearest Levy helping me as well. SORRY IT WONT HAPPEN AGAIN, HEART-PROMISE 3.

Things are speeding up from here, I would estimate about half a dozen chapters left... maybe less. We'll see though, I've been trying to keep the chapters all roughly the same length, and this one is already a little longer than most.

Who knows where the wind will blow me XD

To all my reviewers, I LOVE YOU GUYS 3. You motivate me to keep writing, your comments are very heartening. I hope I continue to meet your expectations.

ENJOY.

* * *

Three days.

Miles had to endure three tormenting days with no leads. He spent those long hours pouring over all the files the Police Department had been able to dig up on Othello. There wasn't a lot. No pictures, no forms of identification, simply case after case of reported loan sharking and several instances of fatal retribution. There were other reports though too, about hostages, threats and other underhanded tactics to instil fear in his clients. It angered Miles, to see the number of Prosecutors who'd abandoned the investigations after receiving threats on their lives.

'_Cowards,'_ he hissed, _'the lot of them.'_

But today was to be the end of the torment. Finally his phone rang and the voice on the end was filled with jubilation rather than disappointment.

_"I got her, pal!"_ Gumshoe exclaimed, his voice needlessly loud.

"Karina?" Miles checked, ever conscious that mistakes were inherent to the Detective's nature.

_"Yeah! I finally got her! We'll reach the city by later this afternoon. I tell you it wasn't easy Mr. Edgeworth!"_

The Detective began to rattle off about how he'd finally located her, but Miles wasn't listening. He was certain that the chase was one the other Detectives would respect, but he couldn't care less about _how_ he caught her, he was simply glad that the real work could now begin.

"Very good Detective, I expect her to be ready for questioning as soon as possible," he said, cutting Gumshoe off before hanging up.

"Finally," he sneered, a grin cracking at the corner of his lips. "Now I have my lead."

He picked his phone back up and dialled for Franziska's office, sitting for several moments before hanging up again, a frown on his face. She wasn't picking up, so he tried her cell phone. That rang several times, before she finally picked up.

_"What is it, Miles Edgeworth? I'm rather preoccupied at present,"_ she snapped, with more than her usual air of impatience.

"Where are you?" Miles asked, an eyebrow raised. She hadn't said anything about investigating any leads to him.

_"I'm at home, Miles. Someone broke in last night."_

Miles sat forward in his chair, suspicions aroused. Franziska's home security was as tight as she could afford - and that was a lot. "Did they take anything?"

_"Nothing,"_ she replied, her voice continuing as she barked instructions at someone in the background. _"They ransacked my study and..." _she trailed off hesitantly.

"And what, Franziska?" Miles encouraged.

_"There was a message left on my bedside table..."_ she sounded uneasy as she spoke, not that it was hard to see why. _"It said 'We see you.'"_

Miles blood felt cold as the silence stretched out on both sides of the phone line. Someone had broken into her house to send her a message... and it was a potent one. Whoever they were knew where she lived, and had the skills to break in despite her security, and not just into her house, but into the bedroom in which she lay sleeping.

"Were you home last night?"

_"Yes,"_ she croaked. _"I never heard anyone enter."_

Miles sighed, massaging his temples. It wasn't hard to see what they were getting themselves in to by taking this case. "Perhaps you had better leave this case to me, Franziska. It makes no sense us both getting in to trouble because of it."

_"Shut up you fool,"_ the woman on the other end snapped, her tone of insecurity gone, and her aggressive confidence restored. _"If this was supposed to scare me off, they have severely underestimated a Von Karma!"_

Miles couldn't help but smirk, he really ought to have anticipated such a response from the woman. He'd grown up beside her, they might as well have been siblings, and as such he should have known better than any that it would take more than a threatening message to dissuade her from getting the guilty verdict she wanted.

"Very well then. I called to inform you that Detective Gumshoe has finally apprehended Karina Wright. I'll be questioning her this afternoon."

There was a curse on the other end of the line. _"I shall have to give this one a miss, Miles Edgeworth. I have too much to handle here. Keep me informed."_

"Of course, and keep me updated as well."

_"I hardly see how this is really any of _your_ business, fool!"_ she exclaimed, but Miles ignored her, wishing her luck and hanging up.

Concern knitted the Prosecutor's brow as he sat at his desk, fingertips laced together and braced against his chin.

_'He knows...'_ he mused internally, eyes flicking to the files on his desktop. _'Somehow, Othello knows that we're working the case... but how?'_ As far as he knew, there'd been no leaks from the District Attorney's office, nor Criminal Affairs. Investigations of this nature were closely guarded, wanting to avoid any press that might frighten the suspect into hiding and make the investigation that much harder. He hated to consider the possibilities that might have alerted the Loan Shark to their pursuit. The foremost option was Police corruption, and the idea that a member of their police force might actually be in cahoots with the criminal was one that made Miles shudder. A bond of trust between the Prosecutors and the Police was important, and he trusted every member.

"Well, I'm not intimidated," Miles said out-loud, opening the files again to go over all the notes. "I won't be frightened away from the truth."

The truth felt that much closer when Gumshoe finally called him to tell him that Karina was ready for questioning. The Prosecutor swept out of the office in his flashy red sports car, pushing the outermost limits of the legal speed limit in a haste to get to the Police Department. It was quiet when he arrived, as it always was when there were no big cases. The odd Detective or two conversed with the lazy desk-clerks, but the overall atmosphere was disappointingly lethargic. He ignored all the casual greetings and headed straight out the back of the building towards the interview rooms. Gumshoe was waiting for him outside one, and opened the door to admit him the moment he approached.

"She might be a tough one to crack, pal," the Detective warned as he followed Miles inside.

The prosecutor ignored his partner's warning and took the seat opposite the jittery woman, throwing a manila folder down on the metal table between them.

"Your name is, Karina Wright, correct?" Miles asked, mostly out of formality. He'd managed to dig some information up on her, though it was largely outdated.

The woman eyed him up cautiously, her tongue flicking from between her lips to lick at them nervously.

"Y-Yes," she answered.

She was a scrawny woman, almost certainly underfed, and her hair was long and dark like her brothers, except it hung down in oily tresses either side of her face. She looked a lot like Wright when he had his hair down.

"My name is Miles Edgeworth. I am High Prosecutor of this district. I have a few questions regarding your brother..."

"P-P-Phoenix?" she stuttered, suddenly sitting more upright then before. "I haven't spoken to him in years."

Miles huffed impatiently, not in the mood for her to try and dodge the truth so obviously. "You're lying, Miss Wright," he scolded, opening the folder and producing two pieces of paper, pushing them across the desk to her. They were the documents that showed Phoenix's credit and phone records. "You regularly call Wright. In fact, he finances your cell phone. Is that correct?"

The woman whimpered, a hand rising to stroke a lock of her dark brown hair. "Y-Yes... that's correct."

"I want you to tell me the truth," Miles told her, keeping his voice at an even level between gentle and firm. "Your brother's safety may well depend on your cooperation."

What little colour that remained in Karina's face drained away now, and the stroking of her hand on her hair sped up. "S-Safety? Has something happened to Phoenix?"

"He was attacked," Miles said, wasting no time in softening the details. "Someone broke into his offices several weeks ago and made an attempt on his life. I have reason to believe you're involved closely in whatever it was Wright was doing before the attack."

Karina gave a shuddering sob, her deep brown eyes flicking over to Gumshoe, who stood quietly in the corner. He must have offered her some sort of silent comfort, because she returned her quivering gaze to Miles. "Why should I trust you?" she whispered.

Miles knew that a speech about justice and truth would do little to ensure the woman that she could trust him with whatever personal battle she and Phoenix were wrapped up in, but he had other tactics, even if they did breach the code of practice for his profession.

"Because I'm trying to help your brother," he reasoned, reaching into his pocket and producing the photo he'd shown to Phoenix several days before. "And because I have... personal interest in his welfare."

The woman leaned forward to peer at the photo he offered her, taking it from him after several seconds to get an even closer view. Her eyes widened a little, flicking from the photo and up to Miles' face.

"What did you say your name was again?" she breathed, still flicking her eyes between face and photo.

"Miles, Miles Edgeworth," he offered again, his voice encouraging as she seemed to realise what he was saying.

"You're... his friend?" she clarified slowly, offering him back the photo. "Still?"

"And colleague," Miles confirmed with a nod of his head. "I owe it to him to solve this case."

"Did he want you involved?" she asked.

Miles was hesitant to reply, concerned that she'd withhold her knowledge if she thought her Brother didn't want it disclosed, but truth was his watchword. "No, he was rather adamant that I not get involved."

"Then I shouldn't tell you," she fumbled, her posture slinking back in the chair.

Desperation took hold of Miles before he had a chance to think. She was his _only_ lead, and he wasn't going to let her slip away like this.

"Listen to me, Karina." His voice was firm and he leaned forward towards her. "Your brother has been in hospital for several weeks with severe injuries. He was stabbed seven times. _Seven._ You're lucky he even survived." He paused a moment to let that startling fact sink in. "Whoever did this to him needs to be apprehended, and I have reason to believe that you are withholding information that might aid this investigation."

"I want to see him..." she squeaked, looking on the verge of tears.

"Myself and the good Detective here," Miles gestured to Gumshoe to clarify who he meant, "will take you. _After_ you answer my questions."

There was a time lapse of several minutes before Karina gave a tiny nod of her head. "What did you want to know?"

"Who is Othello?" Miles asked, launching straight into matters.

"He's a loan shark... an i-illegal one," Karina replied, her eyes darting nervously towards the room's lone door.

"Was Wright in debt to this man?"

She urgently shook her head, as if what Miles was suggesting was a crime of its own. "No, Phoenix didn't believe in borrowing money... he said he'd had too many experiences with loan sharks during his cases..."

Miles mental checklist was pleased to learn he was right, he'd been fairly sure it wasn't Wright who'd tried to borrow money.

"Wright was meeting weekly with this 'Othello', and I have reason to believe he was paying him each time. Why would he do this if he hadn't borrowed money?"

The woman hesitated, "I-I don't-"

Miles raised an eyebrow, that gesture was enough to stop her lie in its tracks.

"He was helping me..." she sobbed, the tears beginning to trickle down her face. "I was the one who borrowed the money. He was helping me pay off my debts."

_'I thought so,'_ Miles mused, hurriedly writing this new information down in his organiser. "Just how much debt are you in, Miss Wright?"

"One hundred..."

"Dollars?"

"Thousand."

Gumshoe gave a choke of shock from him place in the corner, and even Edgeworth's stony expression twitched with surprise.

"That's quite a lot."

"I have a gambling problem," the woman admitted amidst her hysteric tears. "I can't stop, I've tried so hard, but I can't keep myself away."

It didn't surprise Miles to hear this; Phoenix's father had been an obsessive gambler back when they were children, it seemed only logical that the daughter he'd raised would end up the same way. Still, one-hundred thousand dollars was quite a ridiculous amount to have frivolously gambled away.

"You said Wright was helping you to pay your debts?"

"Yes... he said he was going to stop him. He said he was going to find my little girl..."

Miles felt his stomach drop, a horrible crawling sensation running up his spine. He recalled one particularly troubling fact from the Police Department's files...

"He took her?"

Karina nodded, producing a picture from her handbag which she offered the Miles with a shaking hand. The girl was barely two, but she grinned at the camera brightly. "If I don't pay him back by December... I'll never see her again."

A fist clenched in Miles stomach as he peered down at the little girl's sparkling eyes in the photograph. "Live Collateral" was the official term, when an illegal loan agent kidnapped a family member as 'incentive' for the borrower to pay their loan back quickly.

"Miss Wright," Miles began, his voice firmer than ever now. "It is my job to see this criminal put behind bars, and if you cooperate with the police in helping us locate this man, I _promise_ that your daughter will be returned to you."

Karina stared at him from behind tearstained eyes, as if assessing his expression for some kind of reassuring sign. She must have found it, because she nodded her head.

"Thankyou, Karina," Miles finished, releasing a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. "I will personally finance your accommodations and protection. We'll need you to remain available for questioning. I need you to tell _everything_ you know to the investigators. Anything that might help them locate Othello is crucial."

"I promise," she sobbed, looking over at Gumshoe who stood sniffling in the corner. "Can I go see my brother now?"

Miles glanced over at Gumshoe and granted him permission with a nod of his head, hurriedly tidying his files and standing. "Come."

Gumshoe opened the interrogation room's door and stood aside as the Prosecutor and woman went through, he then followed them out and pulled it shut behind him.

They took Edgeworth's car to the hospital, and lead her all the way up to Phoenix's room.

Phoenix looked over at the door as it opened, and Miles saw his jaw drop instantly. He was almost expecting his eyeballs to pop out of his skull.

"'R-Rina?" he stuttered, eyes flicking off of the woman and on to Gumshoe who entered behind her.

Karina immediately ran to her brother's bed-side, weeping heavily and hysterically whining indistinguishable words.

Miles stayed by the door with Gumshoe, murmuring instructions in his subordinate's ear. He was now tasked with protecting the woman 24/7, preferably personally.

"Shhhh..." Phoenix hushed her softly, taking hold of one of her hands and stroking it gently. "What are you _doing_ here? What if..." he trailed off, wary of their company, but then it seemed to dawn on him, and he didn't look pleased. "What did you tell them?" he demanded.

"Enough," Miles answered for her, keeping his voice cold and informal. His agitation with Phoenix had only been intensified by that which he'd learned from his sister. "I have a case now."

He walked straight across the room to Karina, ignoring the incredulous look he was getting from Phoenix. "I urge you to contact me at any time you need," he said, handing Karina over a business card. "For anything."

Karina squinted down at the card and nodded. "I will."

"You know what you're dealing with now, don't you?" Phoenix demanded, trying to meet Miles' gaze. "You know how dangerous it is? Why I didn't want you involved?"

The prosecutor was of half the mind to ignore Wright completely and just leave, but he was angry... and it was about time his feelings were known.

"I thought we were partners, Wright. I thought we could trust each other," he snarled, keeping his back turned to Phoenix's bed.

"W-we... we are..." Phoenix replied, completely disarmed.

"And yet..." Miles snapped, still not turning around, "you didn't see it necessary to ask for my help in caging a criminal this... heinous? Somewhere out there your niece is alone and scared, and you didn't think maybe I would help you?"

There was nothing but silence behind him for a long time, but he couldn't will his legs to work, there was an ache in his chest that he desperately wanted to ease.

_'Doesn't he trust me enough for this?'_

"I..." Phoenix began slowly, "I didn't want you involved. I didn't want to inconvenience you. I didn't think it worth your time. It's not your problem after all."

"Not worth my time?" Miles countered, turning around to face Phoenix now, his grey eyes incredulous. "You still don't understand me at all, do you Wright?" he murmured, shaking his head as his injured gaze dropped to the floor. "You still think me completely heartless."

"Miles that's not what I-"

"Leave it," he snapped, raising a hand to silence Phoenix before he could finish defending himself. "I'll find your niece Phoenix. Just focus on getting better so you can get back to work and support your family."

Phoenix's eyes deepened, as if windows were opening up. Miles could almost see himself reflected in their surface even from this distance. They were imploring him not to walk away now, not when so much remained unsaid in that moment.

The two of them hung in limbo for what felt like forever, before Miles finally broke the chains.

"Have a good day," he concluded, turning his back on them and leaving the room.

He heard Phoenix call after him, but he ignored the sound, keeping his feet on their forward motion, desperate to put distance between himself and Phoenix.

Why was it always Phoenix who hurt him like this? Was that always his intention? All those times when his words had cut into him so deeply that it had shaken loose the foundations of his being, had Wright actually _meant_ to destroy him?

He'd changed everything... trying to be a better person, trying to put his life back on the right track. Did others feel the same as Phoenix, that he hadn't changed enough?

Why did one man's words injure him so?

He didn't realise what he was doing until he found himself sitting in his car at a set of traffic lights a block away from the hospital. He was trembling... though with rage or grief he couldn't tell.

_'Why do I even care what he thinks of me?'_

A horn blasting behind him stirred him from his day-dream, and he quickly accelerated - the lights had changed to green.

_'How can one man make everything so confusing...?'_


	11. Chapter 10

A/N: Agitatingly short chapter ahoy! I tried to be as accurate and detailed as possible (while still achieving my aim with the scene XD) but it still came out substantially shorter than usual. As you'll soon see however, I don't have many options to make it any longer. So, you'll just have to forgive me for that.

I'm sorry it took so long and all I have for you is a tiny little chapter like this! I tried so hard to make it longer, I really did, but it just wasn't working, so here is what you get. I tried to make it sound really good though, to make up for the minimal length and all...

* * *

Miles continued the investigation despite his personal concerns, though he dodged any phone-calls that came from Wright's cell-phone, only picking up those which registered from Karina's cell. He knew he was being petty, but even Karina's gentle attempts to console him did little to ease the aching disappointment in his core.

The information Karina gave him was good and now that his sister was involved, Wright was a little more forthcoming with what he knew - at least when badgered. The prosecutor now knew a lot more about Othello... but he still had no idea how to find him. Once they did it was simply a matter of pinning him for kidnapping Karina's daughter. A quick case.

But Miles was far from brimming with confidence.

They already knew that Othello knew they were on to him, and there were previous incidents that proved he was willing to go to any lengths to protect himself and his 'business'. Death threats were rife and 'accidental' deaths of both witnesses and police investigators were alarmingly common. What worried Miles the most however, was the possibility that Othello would kill the girl in order to protect himself. December was also looming dangerously close. He needed to wrap this up soon, but thus far there was no end in sight.

"Is this a bad time?" a gentle voice called from the door of Miles's office, which he'd left open, sick of visitor after visitor having to knock before entering, as the harsh repetitive banging had a horrible tendency to break his concentration. There were other prosecutors and detectives coming in droves to provide him with information on Othello. It seemed many had been involved in cases revolving around him for countless years now. He looked up to acknowledge the speaker, surprised to see Barbara Kyu standing there.

"Come in, Miss Kyu," he urged, beckoning her with a hand. He'd not heard from her for some time now, though she had promised to bring him any more information if she dug any up. "How might I help you?"

"Well... I wanted to ask how the case was going. Mr. Wright is doing much better, but he still won't tell me what's been going on..."

She slowly lowered herself into the seat opposite Edgeworth's desk.

"Little progression has been made, Miss Kyu. Though, I have established the connection between Wright and the attack. He's been attempting to apprehend an illegal loans agent on behalf of a family member," Miles spouted off the information without much thought. His initial suspicions of the woman had died down since he'd found out more about his case.

"Othello?" she asked.

Miles opened his mouth to confirm for her, when suddenly it hit him; he'd never mentioned to her the name of the criminal...

"How did you know that, Miss Kyu?" he asked warily.

"Oh well... I-I assumed," she fumbled. "I... I've had a brush with him myself."

Miles eyes narrowed, his voice was highly suspicious. "Is that so?"

"He doesn't mess around Mr. Edgeworth. He'll do whatever he can to protect himself. He's merciless," she warned.

"I know that," Miles retorted, caring little for her warning. "He's used to being able to intimidate people, but it isn't going to work on me."

"Please reconsider!" Barbara whined, wringing her hands in front of her.

Now Miles actually set aside what he was doing to peer at her across the top of his desk, his eyes narrowed into a deep frown. "What is this about, Barbara?"

Barbara Kyu shifted anxiously, pulling her hair out of its tight bun and hastily re-tying it. "I just would hate for you to get hurt Mr. Edgeworth. I'm sure Mr. Wright would too..."

"Thankyou for your concern..." Miles began dismissively, "but I am not worried for my safety."

Barbara whimpered once more, her hands dropping to her sides to clutch at the seams of her dress. "Alright... but be careful Mr. Edgeworth... I'd hate for you to come to harm..." she paused a while, letting a weird silence transpire between them.

"Miss Kyu is there something you need to t-" Miles began, but she cut him off before he got a chance to finish.

"I should let you get back to work," she babbled hurriedly, jumping to her feet and backing towards the office door. "I'm sorry for interrupting your progress."

Before Miles could even get another word in she was gone. He stared after her, a frown on his face.

_'What was that about...?'_

When his phone began ringing a few moments later he answered it distractedly, still trying to wrap his had around Barbara's suspicious behaviour. Her file said nothing of any brushes with the law, and he couldn't see anything about her having financial problems. He had no reason to suspect her of anything... she checked out. He still couldn't shake the feeling that there had been something more to her visit just now.

_"Are you _listening _to me_?_"_ Franziska demanded impatiently over the phone, urging his attention back to the phone-call.

"Sorry Franziska, continue," he apologised hastily.

_"I've finished rounding up all the suspects you requested. They fit the information you were given by Miss Wright."_

"Good, good," Miles mused, spinning his chair around to face the window. "Have a complete check done on every one of them. Financial dealings, background, associations, the works," he instructed.

_"Of course, I'm not new to this job you know, Miles Edgeworth," _she snapped impatiently.

Then there was a click, almost exactly like the one he'd heard while talking to Gumshoe. This made Edgeworth pause for a moment, but when there were no further noises, he passed it off as something she was doing on her end of the phone.

"I realise that Franziska, but we have to be extra vigilant during this case. Even the slightest connection might lead us to something crucial."

_"I understand," _she sighed, _"I'll be sure to check and double check all their financial dealings since August, see if there's been any suspicious transactions."_

"Very good," he began, preparing to end their conversation. That's when something caught his attention in the corner of his eye. It appeared to be a speck of something on his suit-shirt. He brushed at it idly to try and remove it but his alarm was piqued with the red dot transferred onto the back of his hand when it brushed past it.

"Shit!" he exclaimed in a rare moment of profanity, releasing the phone and making a dive for the safety of the floor, at the same moment as the office window shattered violently.

It was a strange moment as he rolled clear of the window, time seemed to slow briefly, and the loud din of shattering glass became muffled as if he was listening from under-water.

When he finally hit the floor, backed up against the shelf beneath his window, time seemed to speed back up, and the sound of the room returned to normal. His arm was burning, and there was a weird warmth rapidly spreading down it. He muttered curses as he reached up to grip the ailing spot on his shoulder, finding that he was bleeding liberally.

His veins already felt icy cold, but he took deep breaths to fight back the shock and keep himself calm. He was afraid to move, knowing that the size of his window meant that most of the office was viewable from the outside, where his shooter would surely be able to finish what they started.

He watched fearfully as the same red dot from before traced all along the floor just in front of his hiding place. It swept the entire room up and down several times, reflecting with a bright flash each time it crossed a shard of window glass. It came unsettlingly close to him on a few of its passes, but he assumed he was out of the shooter's range. He was just considering his next move when his office door flew open and Franziska appeared, several of the building's security officers behind her.

"Get down!" he hissed to them, waving them off with his good hand, hurriedly returning the pressure to his wound once the gesture was complete. As he did the red dot abruptly vanished from sight.

Franziska darted for shielding behind the doorframe at his urging, but she continued to peer around it towards him. "How badly are you hurt?" she called anxiously.

"Uh..." Miles began, already feeling light headed as his wound continued to bleed. He lifted his hand briefly to inspect it, but quickly covered it over again as his stomach flipped queasily. "Bad enough," he settled for.

Franziska immediately turned to the security officers that accompanied her. "I want this building locked down, I want the shooter found and I want an ambulance here _right now_."

The men immediately moved to do her bidding, two of them running off down the hall while two more moved cautiously into the room. No shots were fired as they made the dash across the office to where Edgeworth sat hunched beneath the window sill.

"Come on sir," one urged, helping him to his feet and supporting him as they made a break for the door again.

Edgeworth's head was spinning as he staggered along beside the security men, another hand now pressed against his wound over the top of his own, attempting to slow the profuse bleeding. An alarm began to sound fairly soon after they exited the office, and he became aware of Franziska bustling along beside him, barking orders at anyone who got in their way as they hurried along. The corridors were filled with Prosecutors and other office officials who'd been urged out of their offices by the security. He couldn't understand anything they were saying, the haze in his brain becoming too heavy to make sense of more than the carpet at his feet as he staggered along.

"Stay with us Mr. Edgeworth!" he was able to discern from the otherwise incoherent jumble of noises.

He managed a reply, though he couldn't really recall exactly what he'd said, but it can't have been that reassuring, as he could have sworn he caught Franziska calling him a 'fool' from somewhere in front of him.

He remembered being transferred from the security guards arms and onto a stretcher, and he remembered the jerking sensation of the gurney as he was wheeled out to the ambulance. He remembered seeing the flashing lights and hearing the sirens blaring loudly over the rest of the noise.

"Can you hear my voice, Prosecutor Edgeworth?" someone asked right above his head when all of the outside noises had been shut out by what he presumed was the ambulance doors, but his eyes failed to register any sort of face. He willed himself a stiff nod, to let whoever it was know he could hear them.

There was a prick in his arm that he'd not been expecting and he'd gone to recoil from it, but a hand quickly shot out to keep him pressed against the trolley. The person with him explained what they were doing, but none of it really sank in. He then felt a heavy pressure come down on his shoulder, pressing firmly against the sorest spot, around the join of his shoulder and collar-bone. His lips parted in what he assumed was supposed to be an expression of his agony, but he couldn't discern whether he'd actually made any noise or not.

"...bullets here..." he heard someone say, but the rest of their speech became garbled as his head swam violently and the weird blur of half-processed vision plunged away into darkness. He panicked, clambering for the consciousness that was slipping, his vision flickered back into light for a moment and for the briefest second he saw the face of the paramedic peering straight down at him.

"I need a Saline drip stat!" he heard them yell urgently, before his strength gave in and he lost the struggle for consciousness, the dark curtain dropping once more like a lead weight in his chest.


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: UUUUGH! I am awful. I'm so sorry for leaving you on such a massive cliffhanger for so long. Uni is hectic and keeping up with schoolwork and all my other commitments just saps my energy and motivation to actually write. I also lost inspiration for this story for a while, but I've resolved to finish it no matter what, because I always hated it when my favourite fictions just stopped and never finished. So here you go! Not a lot happens in this chapter... it does feel a LITTLE pointless, but I consider it a warm up ready for my continuing the rest of the story.  
So, enjoy! I'm back, and I'm going to try and be more regular with my updates!

Love you all!

* * *

Maya had just made a trip down to the hospital cafeteria, leaving Nick and Karina up in his room. She'd gone to fetch them all something nice to eat, because she'd seen the depressed expression on Nick's face when the trolley nurse brought him some strange mush for lunch. So now she was trotting down the hospital corridors back towards Phoenix's room, three paper bags in hand. The oil from the food inside them had already begun seeping through the paper... but to Maya, that was simply an indication of quality!

She was just crossing the hallway where the main corridor crossed with the surgery corridor when yelling made her leap aside.

"Coming through!" a nurse yelled to clear the hallway ahead of her. There were about five of them, and they were all rushing a gurney down the narrow hall. They were headed towards the surgery room it seemed.

As they rushed past her, Maya could not help but take a look at the person laying on the trolley, but in the brief flash she saw, she did not expect it to be so obvious who lay there. She saw the flash of silver hair first, and that was what made her look twice. Their face was mostly hidden by an oxygen mask, and they were very pale. A nurse was fussing over them as they rushed past, keeping a drip bag elevated.

Maya's blood felt very cold, and though she tried her hardest to deny what she had clearly seen, she knew that face all too well. The final proof was the fifth woman who was fighting to keep up with the nurse's pace. The blue-gray hair and elaborate clothing were all she really needed to see.

"Mr. Edgeworth..." she breathed, standing where she was until the gurney disappeared into the surgery room. She then ran down the hall full speed towards Phoenix's room.

When she reached the room, Karina and Nick were playing cards. Nick had made an amazing recovery in recent days, to the point where he was able to sit up, and even move around a little bit with the assistance of a wheelchair. He seemed flustered with being caught up in bed, even more so since Miles had stopped returning his calls. Maya knew that he was worried for his friend's safety, and that was why she was terrified to bring him the news she had.

"Ah Maya, you're back!" he greeted when she burst through the door. "We were beginning to think you'd forgotten our lunch."

"That's not important Nick!" Maya exclaimed, immediately getting confused look from the defense attorney. After all, Maya _loved_ food, it was _always _important.

"What's wrong Maya?" he asked, his voice firm. There was already alarm in his expression.

"It's Mr. Edgeworth, Nick!" she sobbed, fighting hard to contain her distress. "They were taking him to surgery!"

She watched as the colour drained from Phoenix's face, and Karina took a firm hold of one of his hands, squeezing it.

"I knew this would happen..." Phoenix choked, a hand rising to cover his mouth. "Did you see him?"

"Briefly," she answered, moving over to her seat at his bed-side, to place down their now-forgotten lunch. "I didn't see what was wrong but... he looked really pale, Nick..." She hated not having any good news for him.

"This isn't your fault, Phoenix..." Karina comforted, getting in before her brother even had the chance to claim responsibility. "We don't know what really happened..."

"What else could it be Karina?" Phoenix snapped.

All that did was agitate Karina, and in response she sat up straighter and folded her arms across her chest. "He knew it was dangerous, he was prepared for this... he told you he was."

"That doesn't matter Karina!" Phoenix snapped, making the woman recoil a little. "This was our mess! It was our responsibility to deal with it! I didn't want anyone else dragged into it, he didn't deserve to get hurt because of us!"

"Because of _me_ you mean..." Karina sniffed, rubbing at her eyes as she began to tear up. "I got you into this mess... and I got him into it as well. So stop taking the blame on yourself!"

"Please stop talking as if he's dead already..." a voice snapped from the door.

They all looked over to find Franziska standing there, looking a lot less composed then usual. "You really ought to have more faith in him."

"Franziska!" Phoenix exclaimed, sitting completely upright. "How is he? Is he alright? What happened?"

Franziska raised a hand and waved it at him, urging him to settle down. "I don't know what you've heard.." she began, glancing sidelong at Maya, "but he's in surgery. He was attacked by a gunman, they're trying remove the bullet from his shoulder now."

Phoenix hung his head in his hands, terrified to think that the prosecutor could have vanished so abruptly if things had only gone a little differently. "How is he doing?"

"Stable," Franziska replied, practically cutting the attorney off. "They stopped the bleeding in the ambulance, but he's lost a lot of blood... we have to wait till after the surgery to know for certain." She moved then, walking up to stand at the foot of Phoenix's bed, her stiletto heels clicking on the floor.

"You listen to me, and listen well, Phoenix Wright," she demanded, urging his attention up from his hands with her voice alone. "Miles Edgeworth will not be taken down by one cowardly shooter who cant even make a straight shot. I know he's in this case until its finish, and that is not here."

Phoenix stared into Franziska's icy gray eyes for several long moments before he finally swallowed, fighting to breathe after having held it for so long. "I'll believe that when I talk to him myself."

Franziska smirked in an amused fashion as she turned to head back to the door. "I shall keep you updated Phoenix Wright, but this incident will not disrupt your recovery, am I clear?"

"Yes," Phoenix replied, biting back the urge to call her 'mother'.

"Very good," she finished with a wave, "take care."

With that she was gone, without so much as another word.

"She's... every bit as frightening as you told me," Karina offered with a nervous laugh.

"She's nice really," Maya chimed, her mood seemed to have done its usual effortless rebound. "She just likes to be in charge of _everything_."

Karina giggled before glancing over at Phoenix, her expression falling in an instant. Her brother sat still, eyes locked on the bed-sheets, his hands clutching at the fabric. There was a vein sticking out in his jaw from where he clenched it so tightly.

"Hey, Phoenix?" she began, reaching up to touch the side of her brother's face. "He'll be OK, you know that right?"

"I know... that's the problem..." Phoenix replied tersely.

"P-problem?" Karina squeaked, utterly confused by his comment. "You _wanted_ him to not be OK?"

"Franziska is right, Karina," Phoenix snapped, still avoiding her gaze as she tried so desperately to catch his. "As long as he is physically able, Edgeworth will pursue this case. He's always been that way... whether it's pride or- or something else entirely, he'll fight this case till it's finished... one way or another."

"You're worried they'll try again... aren't you?" Maya concluded.

Phoenix nodded, his mouth drawn into a thin line. "He'll leave the moment he's able to, and then they'll be after him harder then ever."

"Have a little faith, Nick!" Maya exclaimed, puffing her cheeks in irritation. "If there's one thing Mr. Edgeworth is good at, it's being immovable. He'll be fine."

Phoenix had to snort in mild laughter. She was right about that, Miles was indeed immovable when he put his mind to something. He didn't bother hiding his scepticism though, "I hope you're right."

"Shut up and eat your lunch, Nick," she snapped, thrusting the paper bag into his face, effectively ending the discussion.

It was three hours before Phoenix and his companions were given any further news on Edgeworth's situation. Franziska returned, looking a little more composed then she had been for her previous visit.

"He came out of surgery an hour and a half ago, and has been awake for about half an hour," she said, not bothering with a greeting or any other meaningless conversational formality.

"And?" Phoenix encouraged.

"He's fine, Phoenix Wright," she snapped in retaliation, not appreciating his tone. "He's still a little groggy, but otherwise thoroughly annoyed. I suspect he'll start pushing to be discharged within an hour, once his anaesthesia properly wears off."

Phoenix rolled his eyes, that sounded just like Edgeworth.

"He does not know that you are aware of his attack," Franziska cautioned. "I suspect it is his intention to keep this as quiet as possible..."  
"I don't care," Phoenix dismissed, "I'm going down to see him now." As if to make a point the attorney pressed the call button on his bedside.

"Don't be ridiculous you foolish fool!" Franziska protested, uncoiling and recoiling her ever present bull-whip. "That is both highly impractical and unnecessary."

"I don't recall needing your permission," Phoenix retorted.

At that moment the nurse arrived, and Phoenix relayed his desire to her. She seemed a little hesitant, but it only took her a few moments to be convinced. "Alright Mr. Wright... you've been making a good recovery, so I think we can afford a short visit. Provided things stay civil."

"Civil!" Franziska scoffed, "those two fools wouldn't know the _meaning _of civil!"

_'Ironic... coming from you,'_ Phoenix thought bitterly.

Soon enough the nurse had helped him into his wheelchair, despite all of Franziska's protests, and she was fussing over the final details of his comfort.

"The moment there's any pain, we come straight back," she stated.

"Yes, whatever. Can we go now?" he snapped, getting a reprimanding glare from Karina for it.

"Alright Mr. Wright, let's go," she relented, shaking her head as she steered him out of the ward, Franziska, Maya and Karina on their heels.

Edgeworth was well and truly awake when they reached his room. He was sitting up in his bed, arguing with a nurse who was holding a glass of water and some pills in a little cup.

"Will you just give me the damn pills so I can leave already?" he snapped at her. The poor nurse looked even more flustered then he did.

"Don't go taking this out on her, Edgeworth," Phoenix reprimanded as his own nurse brought his chair to a stop just inside the room.

The prosecutor's steely gaze flashed in his direction first, the rest of his torso rotating to face him afterwards. "Wright..." he acknowledged. The silver glare would then throw daggers at Franziska, who stood in the doorway with Maya and Karina.

Edgeworth looked strange without his wine-coloured suit jacket and black vest. He had obviously been quick to change out of his surgery robe, already a white shirt that looked brand new, there were even creases across the chest and sleeves that suggested it had been folded and packaged until very recently. Perhaps the weirdest features however, were the sling in which his arm rested and the absence of his cravat. His arm was fastened so that it rest diagonally across his chest, presumably in a position that put the least strain on his injured shoulder. All the was visible of the injury was the edge of a bleached white bandage that showed beneath his shirt-collar.

"Don't even bother saying what you're going to say, Wright," Miles growled, snatching the pills and glass from the nurse and knocking them back with a quick swig. "I've no interest in hearing you try to be the voice of reason."

Phoenix raised one eyebrow. "Then you know I am being reasonable when I say that you should drop this case?"

"Can I go now?" Miles demanded, ignoring Phoenix completely for the time being.

The intimidated nurse shook her head, hugging her clipboard tightly to her chest, as if she thought it served as some kind of protection. "You need to give the sedatives a few hours to wear off properly first, and we have to make sure everything went smoothly with the surgery."

He growled, sitting back against his pillow, the fingertips of his good hand drumming against the crisp white sheets. Now he turned his attention back to Phoenix.

"All this means is that I'm on the right track, Wright," he snapped. "It's not an invitation to give up the chase."

"You didn't seem to need an invitation to start with," Phoenix retorted.

"Will you two _stop?_" Karina demanded, her voice pitched with frustration. "Maybe if you two just worked together instead of bashing each other about, we could get to the bottom of this faster and save my daughter!" Phoenix and Miles both flinched, feeling rightly chastised for their behaviour. "You've both been acting like children."

The defense attorney and the prosecutor exchanged a long stare, neither man's gaze loosening even a little, until finally Phoenix sighed and broke eye-contact, giving the tiniest of nods. "Alright... do what you need to do."

Edgeworth gave a self-satisfied smirk, massaging his arm just below the shoulder. "I already know my next move, but I'm going to need to talk to your secretary, Wright."

Phoenix looked surprised, both his eyebrows arching high above his curious expression. "Barbara? Why?"

"Because..." Miles began, turning to the nurse and requesting that she bring him a cup of tea. "She's going to lead me right to Othello."


End file.
